Angel of a Devil
by Madness Hamster
Summary: Hermione's parents have lied to her for her whole life but eventually the truth reveals itself. She now has to come to terms with a secret she never knew she had, and fight the lure of a darkness within that threatens to envelop her.
1. Prologue

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 1: Prologue**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, I just like to manipulate them )

"You remember that night, don't you Malfoy?" The cold hiss broke the long silence, as though continuing a conversation unheard by all but the one who had spoken.

"Which particular night do you mean, my Lord?" Lucius's sleek voice almost covered his apprehension. Almost. "There were a lot of memorable nights, my Lord," it was not wise to show ignorance before the Dark Lord.

"Surely this one stood out among all others. A truly majestic night, amidst many glorious nights."

Voldemort was toying with him now, like a cat with a mouse, or a child tearing the legs off a spider, one by one, to watch it squirm.

"How could you forget it Malfoy? The firelight. Her aura. The power."

Lucius watched the candlelight flicker, casting odd shadows around the drawing room of the old Riddle House. He looked at the dilapidated furniture and the many scuttling insects around the room, not daring to look at his master on the throne-like chair in the middle of the room, for fear his glance would be construed as impudence.

Of course he remembered that night. How could he forget?

The smell of burning as a whole village cowered before the wrath of Lord Voldemort. The ash raining from the sky like cursed snow, illuminated in the eerie orange glow of a burning building. A temple. People screaming as the Death Eaters hunted them.

It was sixteen years ago, at the height of the Dark Lord's reign, and he could still hear the screams echo in the air as the men were tortured and killed, their wives and daughters beaten and raped, their homes destroyed, lives shattered.

It was sport.

But there was one person. One solitary woman who had stood in the face of the horror and destruction and tried to fight. She was special. She was chosen.

She was Voldemort's.

"I see you remember now, Malfoy, the events of that fateful night all those years ago." The voice intruded upon his memories.

"I remember, my Lord."

"Good. Then I trust you also remember the power I told you of."

"Yes, my Lord. Power such as has never been dreamed of before. Power that will cause even Dumbledore and the Potter boy to cower before it. Power even greater than…" here Malfoy paused, even repeating Voldemort's own words back to him, he wasn't sure such disrespect could be allowed, "…greater than your own. The girl's power."

"That's right, Malfoy. I have left it too long already, it should have been taken care of years ago, before…" his cold voice trailed off as he once more retreated into his own private thoughts. "But it is no matter now Malfoy. It is time. Time to pay a visit to my daughter."

* * *

Hermione awoke with a jerk as a crash came from the other bedroom.

_Oh God, not now! Not here!_ She screamed silently, leaping from her bed and, without bothering to pull on a robe, grabbed the wand that was lying on her bedside table, well within reach should anything occur.

She raced out the door of her bedroom and across the landing to the spare room, where Ron and Harry were sleeping.

Bursting in, wand raised, her alert eyes took in everything in the room, from Harry's groggy form on the bed, to Ron's guilty face, to the heavy trunk on the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I dropped my trunk."

She lowered her wand and let out a huge sigh of relief. "Ronald Weasley, do you have _any_ idea how much you scared me?"

"Sorry," he said again as Harry mumbled something about centaurs playing leapfrog and rolled over to go back to sleep. Honestly that boy could sleep through a stampede of dragons.

"I couldn't sleep so I was looking for a boring book to read and make me tired, and I dropped my trunk" Ron's ears had turned red, "I don't suppose you have _Hogwarts: A History_ lying around anywhere?" He looked hopeful.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at this slur on her favourite book, "Come downstairs, I'll get you a cup of hot chocolate or something. You are so lucky my parents aren't home."

It was the summer holidays before the beginning of the golden trio's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and Hermione, having spent so much time at Ron's house, had decided that for a change she would invite them all to hers. Especially since Ron and Harry would be taking Muggle Studies at school this year, as a crash course, so she'd thought it would give him a head start.

Her parents had been fine with the idea, having heard "so many good things about those lovely young boys" from their "sensible little daughter". Luckily for Ron they'd decided to go to Wales for a week, otherwise he would have woken them up.

She wandered into the kitchen, automatically turning the light on and turned to Ron who was trailing behind her with an odd look on his face. "Right, fill up the kettle, I showed you how to do it yesterday, remember? What's wrong?"

She looked down at herself, wondering why Ron was looking at her so weird, "I know I don't exactly look my best at half 2 in the morning, but there's no need to stare"

"It's not that," Ron seemed lost for words, "you're not wearing a robe."

"Oh," she said, noticing absently that all she was wearing was a pink vest top and pink shorts with hearts on, "Well I thought we were being attacked by Death Eaters, didn't I? I wasn't exactly worried about putting on a robe, I was thinking about what my mum would say if she came back to find your blood all over the floor. She would make me pay to get the carpet cleaned you know!"

He grinned, "I know, but…" he trailed off, looking suddenly shy, "erm…how do I work this thing again?" He pointed at the kettle.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione slipped back into her "textbook" voice with practiced ease, "I only showed you it a few hours ago. You're so lucky you've got me, otherwise you would fail Muggle Studies."

She filled up the kettle and had no sooner taken two sachets of hot chocolate from the cupboard than the whole world shimmered slightly. She didn't have a chance to do anymore than look at Ron in shock before she felt something rip in her chest and briefly watched her body fall to the floor before realising that she wasn't in it any more.

She closed her eyes in horror, only to open them again to a scene from a nightmare.

**Authors Note:** Everyone knows I'm a review junkie!


	2. Ghastly Statue

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 2: Ghastly Statue**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters sob or the chapter title. The plot is all mine. As far as I know...

"Good evening Miss Granger."

Hermione looked up into the face of the most evil wizard of all time and fought the urge to scream.

"Or can I call you Hermione?" A cold laugh reverberated through the dark room, echoed by the two dozen masked Death Eaters surrounding them.

"Miss Granger is fine," she replied with as much hostility as she could force into her trembling voice. "Where am I and how did you get me here? There is no way you could have put a Portkey in my house, let alone one which you were certain only I would touch. Unless you wanted Harry?"

Her voice was getting steadily stronger. They hadn't killed her yet, so something was going right for her.

"No, I can assure you _Hermione,_ it was you I wanted to see. And as for your little Portkey theory, well, take a look at yourself."

She was reluctant to remove her eyes from him, it was well known that he had no honour, and no qualms about attacking an unarmed witch or wizard, even if they were distracted. But curiosity got the better of her and she risked a glance down at her body.

Her shimmering, transparent body.

"Am I…dead?" She asked quietly, not quite knowing why.

"Not yet. I just wished to speak to you, and I could hardly do it with the blood traitor and the Potter boy hanging around could I? Don't worry, once I've finished with you you'll be returned to your body, relatively unscathed." He laughed again, a slight edge of madness resonating within the hauntingly cheerless sound.

"So why am I here then?"

Instead of answering her question, Voldemort glided towards her, his long black robes brushing the floor, creating a slithering sound in the heavy silence.

"I will reveal everything to you eventually. How's your mother Hermione?"

"What?" She had almost forgotten who she was talking to as her incredulity leaked into her voice. Voldemort had probably risked quite a lot to bring her here and instead of torturing, maiming or killing her, he was asking about her mother? "Why the hell do you want to know?"

"Have a care girl, I could trap you this way forever. Your body would remain alive, so your spirit would not be able to move on, and if I choose it no-one would be able to see or hear you. You would have to watch all of your little friends go on with their pathetic lives. At least until I kill them all." Voldemort's eyes flashed, their fiery depths somehow cold as ice as they bore through her. "So I will ask you again. How is your mother Hermione?"

"She's fine." Hermione spat out as civilly as possible through clenched teeth.

"And your…father?" A hint of amusement touched his white features.

"He's fine."

"Is he now? Has your mother ever told you about her past?"

Voldemort turned his back on her and walked to a great throne-like chair in the middle of the room.

_How utterly…arrogant_, Hermione noted, watching him seat himself comfortably on the cold stone seat, her lip curled in disgust. Was this a game? Was he toying with her, trying to get information from her about Harry and the Order?

"I know enough." Her mother never talked about her past. Hermione had never even met her mother's parents. How did Voldemort know this though? And why did he care?

There were so many questions and as another piercing glance shot through her she didn't know whether she cared to wait for answers. Her bravado was fast disappearing as he stared at her, almost appraisingly.

"You know nothing do you girl? I don't believe you even know that your mother is a witch." He watched her reaction, the smirk that had been threatening to appear finally split his face, more like a grimace than a smile.

"She's not a witch. She would have told me if she was a witch. I'm a muggle-born. Didn't you know? I thought you kept tabs on us, makes it easier to plan out who to kill first?" She was mocking him, possibly not one of the wisest decisions she'd ever met, but his words had struck a chord somewhere deep within her memories. Something her mother had said to her father years and years ago, when Hermione was just five years old.

_"It's going to happen, Paul. I just know it. You've seen her, you've seen what she can do." _

Her mother's face was pale as she tried to hold back tears, Hermione's father wrapped his arms around his wife and tried to soothe her, oblivious of the fact that Hermione was sitting on the stairs watching them through the railing as the open door to the living room spilled out the light that enveloped them.

"Shush Lucy. It might not happen."

"How can you say that? You know what I am. You know what she is going to become! She's going to get one of those letters and then someday he's going to come for her, I just know it. He's going to come and take my daughter away from me, to punish me for failing to stop it all happening that night."

The tears which had threatened to fall now flowed freely down her mother's beautiful face. To Hermione's young mind this was wrong. Her mother was indestructible, like all little girl's parents.

"I didn't have enough power to stop him then, that's why I blocked it out, but I didn't think. I was so foolish and impetuous, I never thought. And now I can't protect her. I can't protect my little girl. He's going to take her away and I'm going to have no choice but to let it happen, all because I was too scared to ever use my powers again."

Hermione scrambled up the stairs as her mother's frail body was racked with sobs, willing it all to be a dream, hoping that when she woke up in the morning her mother would be just fine, that she would be as strong and happy as she had always been.

And she had been indestructible once more in the morning. And the morning after that. And the morning after that. Gradually Hermione had pushed it to the back of her head, another dream in a child's head.

"My mother isn't a witch." Hermione repeated, although her voice didn't sound so calm anymore.

"It's too late, Hermione, I can see the doubt in your face. Potter has no doubt told you about my legilimency skills. I watched the memory flash behind your eyes."

"There's another flaw in your little theory; even if my mother was a witch, my father is definitely a muggle, making me a half blood at the very most. And as I remember you, rather hypocritically, don't hold much regard for those either." She felt almost triumphant at beating down what he was telling her once more.

He grinned once more, a smile that offered pain and tears. "You're right. I despise my father's tainted blood within my veins. But I more than make up for it with Salazar Slytherin's legacy. How can you be so utterly sure of your father? Of yourself? How do you even know that he is your father? You don't know much else about your 'family', it should be hardly surprising if your whore of a mother kept a few extra secrets from you."

"No." If Hermione had been in her body tears would have been coursing down her face, but the tear ducts didn't work in her incorporeal status. "No. He _is_ my dad."

"How touching. The faith a young person puts in her parents nowadays." He sneered, and gave a cackle, echoed by the previously silent audience surrounding them. _Well at least he's got them well trained._

"You must have felt it Hermione." All laughter was gone from his voice now and once more his eyes tore at her consciousness. "The darkness within you. It feels so good, doesn't it? The temptation to do something evil. When Malfoy provoked you in your third year and you hit him, you could feel it then. Welling up inside, exacting justice, taking revenge. It felt so powerful." He was leaning forward in his seat, a fervour in his eyes usually reserved for madmen and lunatics as his voice tugged at something deep inside her.

"It's the voice inside that whispers to you to do and say what you please, never mind the consequences because they can't touch you, no-one can get near you, you're too strong. Too powerful for them. It's the sadistic streak that urges you to stand on a persons loose shoelace and trip them, that takes pleasure in dangling a spider in front of the Weasley's face."

"No." She wanted to scream the word, but her voice betrayed her and it was barely a whisper. One little word filled with so much denial and such horror.

The worst thing was not that he was messing with her mind. It was that he was _reading_ her mind. All the wicked little urges she'd worked so hard to contain, to silence.

"You get them from your father, Hermione. You get them from me."

**Authors Note** - Yeah, I know it comes off a bit Star Wars-esque, sorry about that, it wasn't deliberate, I just hadn't thought it through properly, anyway, hope you all liked it! Review and tell me what you think so that I can improve if it needs improving, or just bask in the glory of my greatness if it doesn't need improving!


	3. I Have Always Been Scared of You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 3: I Have Always Been Scared of You**

DISCLAIMER: Nope, the characters aren't mine. Why do you have to keep rubbing it in by making me write disclaimers? Cruel universe!

A/N - I wanna thank all my reviewers so far: I'm not gonna name you all coz I'm incredibly lazy, but I really do luv getting reviews! Just a couple of notes tho' - QuoteTheRavenNeverMore, don't worry, this fic already has 18 chapters and counting, so I'm gonna be updating pretty much once a week. And CareBearErin, I am CandyCane, but the name was already taken on this site, I hate when people plagiarise other peoples fics, so thanks for checking it out :-)

* * *

"This is _not_ happening to me." Hermione looked around at the circle of black cloaks surrounding her. "This is not happening. I'm dreaming. This is all just a really bad dream."

She looked up into the stony impassive face of the most evil wizard of all time.

"A _really really_ bad dream."

"I can assure you Hermione that this is not a dream. You are my daughter and the darkness within you will soon overwhelm you. All your foolish ideas of good and evil, right and wrong, they mean nothing. There is only power and those too weak to take it. Evil will consume you and you will sit at my right hand as we cleanse the earth of the filth not fit to breathe our air."

"No. No. No. No." Hermione was in a state of shock, she just wanted him to stop talking. She wanted him to go away, to just shrivel up and die. "NO! She screamed at him, finally stopping his diatribe.

"Shut up, just shut up!"

"Do not forget who you are talking to, child." Ice dripped from his voice as his red eyes flashed at her, "lest I choose to remind you."

"I don't care. Torture me, kill me, I don't care." Tearless sobs shivered through her transparent body. "You're toying with me. That's why I'm here, isn't it? You're trying to get into my head so I'll tell you something about Harry and the Order. You're doing to me what you did to him, planting Sirius in his mind. It's not going to work. I will never tell you anything so you might as well just get it over with, because I've seen that movie too, all this 'I'm your father' crap. I'm not afraid of you."

She was lying. Throughout her speech her mouth was dry and her voice quavered. It was obvious that he knew she was lying.

"You are either extremely foolish or extremely brave, girl. You need to be educated, it has been left for far too long. A friendship with Potter and the muggle-loving Weasleys, that should not have happened, but it can be turned to our advantage."

"No," Hermione's voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes. Whether you like it or not Hermione, you _will_ join us eventually."

"My Lord," came a snivelling obsequious voice from one of the black cloaks huddled around her, "I am sorry, but she will return in 2 minutes."

"Ah, yes. Hermione, you will shortly be leaving, but I will leave you a reminder of this night. And know that the shadows shall win through eventually."

He stood and walked towards her, something glinting in his hand that hadn't been there before.

She tried to shy away but he grabbed her arm. Before she had a chance to marvel at the fact that he seemed able to touch her even though she was incorporeal, he slipped a heavy gold ring on the middle finger of her right hand.

The moment he loosened his grip she pulled away as though she had been burned and stared down at the band. There was an inscription running round it:

_Darkness flows through blood_

She stared up at him, her eyes cold as she felt a tug at her chest. "I know it's not true. There is no way my mother would ever go near you, let alone touch you."

The last thing she heard before the scene around her evaporated into mist was his mocking voice.

"She had no choice."

* * *

The tears that had failed to fall when she was intangible covered her face when Hermione finally opened her eyes.

Someone had lain her on the living room sofa and Harry and Ron stood a few feet across the room, turned away as though they couldn't bear to look at her.

"We need to tell them," Ron was saying, concern in his voice, "we can use that fellytone thing."

"But what are we supposed to say? 'Sorry to disturb your holiday Mr and Mrs Granger, especially in the middle of the night, but your daughter collapsed while making hot chocolate and even though she's breathing and she's got a pulse her eyes are wide open and it looks like she's dead. Don't worry about it though, it's probably nothing, we're just going to dump her on the sofa and hopes she gets better soon. Have a nice holiday.'?"

"Why didn't you just take me to the hospital?" Hermione asked them calmly, fighting back a laugh as they both jumped in shock at hearing her voice.

"Hermione!" Ron hurried over to her and helped her sit up. "Are you ok?"

"What happened?" Harry sounded calmer than Ron, but she could tell he was worried about her too.

"I…I'm not quite sure." Had that actually happened? Or had she just fainted from exhaustion and had a nightmare? Merlin knew they'd all been so stressed out lately. She was so caught up in her wonderings that she didn't notice what her hands were doing.

"Were you wearing that before, Hermione?" Ron's curious voice shattered her contemplation and she followed his eyes to where her hands lay in her lap, the left fingers absently twirling a heavy golden band on her right middle finger.

A band with an inscription running around it.

"Oh God," she breathed, fighting back a wave of nausea as she stared down at her hand.

The urge to yank the ring off overcame her and she tried, softly at first, to pull it off. But it seemed that the harder she pulled the tighter the ring became. Finally she gave up, her finger red and sore while the gold glinted merrily in the lamplight.

"Er, Hermione? Are you ok?" The boys had been watching her mini panic attack in silence but Harry seemed at a loss for what to do as she just sat there, forgetting about them, staring at her finger as though it was something alien to her.

Should she tell them what had happened? What would they think of her if they knew what she'd just heard?

"I think I must have just fainted, I haven't been feeling too great lately, I think there might be a bug going round or something. And I just forgot to take my ring off before I went to bed, it gets a bit tight sometimes." There was no point in telling them anything, because it wasn't true. She would take care of the ring later.

Voldemort knew all about Harry's saving people thing, he probably thought that if Hermione thought Voldemort was her father and he would try to do something to make her evil then Harry would go running off to try and kill him, almost certainly into some kind of trap.

And if it was true?

_Would Harry really still be able to maintain a friendship with the daughter of the person who killed his family?_ She thought sadly.

Not that it mattered of course, there was no way that bastard was telling the truth.

"So why didn't you call an ambulance then?"

The two boys looked at each other almost guiltily.

"Well…" Ron began.

"We were worried that it was something magical, or something to do with Voldemort. You've only been out for about 15 minutes. When you collapsed, Ron couldn't wake you up so he shouted me and we put you on the sofa and tried to use spells and stuff to wake you up so we were just about to call your parents and send an owl to the Order when you started talking." Harry explained, sitting beside her.

"Oh…ok," Hermione suddenly wanted to be alone, she had to think some things through, "I think I'll go back to bed now. Ron, I'm sure Harry will help you with your hot chocolate. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a reply from her two best friends she hurriedly made her way back to her room, shutting the door behind her and throwing herself down onto the bed.

What the hell was going on? There was no way that what Voldemort was saying could be true. Her mother would have told her. Wouldn't she?

Reaching over to the pink phone sitting on her nightstand, Hermione dialled a number from memory.

"Hello?" Came the sleepy voice after a few rings.

"Mum?" Hermione's voice was small.

"Hermione? What's wrong? Are you ok?" Suddenly her mother sounded wide awake.

"I'm fine mum, I just wanted to ask you something." She paused for a second, trying to convince herself that she knew what the answer would be; that she hadn't been lied to for the past 17 years of her life.

"Are you a witch?"

The involuntary gasp on the other end of the line told her more than words ever could.

A/N: Ok, i know it's short, and i know it's not great but at least i wrote something! anyway, they're going back to hogwarts in the next chapter so it should pick up a bit from there. Please review and let me know wat u think!


	4. An Engine, An Engine Chuffing Me Off

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 4: An Engine, An Engine; Chuffing Me Off**

DISCLAIMER: None of it is mine! Please don't sue me! I don't have any money anyway, all I've got is a pen and a lollipop, and by the time you sue me I'll have eaten the lollipop so HA!

A/N - Sorry it took me a while to put this chapter up, just been hectic lately! But here it is now!

* * *

Hermione sat in the empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express thinking about how her life had changed in just one week. No – less than that. Her life had changed in the two seconds it had taken Voldemort to tell her he was his father.

She still didn't want to believe it. How could she accept the fact that the most evil creature to have ever existed was her father? That no matter what, there was a part of him within her?

The things her mother had told her echoed within her mind as the sound of students floated in from the platform and the corridor. The conversation that had ended seventeen years of lies.

_"Are you a witch?" _

The gasp was audible even across the miles, through the wires.

"Oh, God. It's not true, please tell me it's not true! Mum?" Hermione knew that she sounded panicked but she didn't really care, she just wanted to be reassured.

"How did you find out?" Her mother sounded almost calm, although Hermione could almost picture the worried look on her face.

"It's a funny thing, mother dearest, you know that evil bastard who keeps trying to kill my best friend? Well, he decided that he wanted to talk to me. Apparently you and him go way back. Care to explain? Oh yeah, and while you're at it, want to tell me if he really is my dad? Cause that would be nice to know." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. After she'd finished her rant, Hermione bit her lips to control her cry of surprise.

She didn't know where that had come from. Hermione was not a sarcastic person, those words didn't seem like her own. They seemed wrong. Yet strangely they fit. Her mother, the one person every child was supposed to be able to trust unconditionally, had lied to her for her whole life.

Her mother sounded as shocked at what she'd said as Hermione felt.

"Just stay there Hermione, we're going to come home right now and I'll tell you everything."

Hermione had to bite back the retort that was forming on her lips and just whispered a "see you soon", rather than the "where the hell do you expect me to go" that was on the tip of her tongue.

Her parents were home by dawn that morning. Hermione kicked out Ron and Harry, telling them that her fainting was due to a contagious bug she'd gotten off her young cousin who'd visited just before they'd arrived. She flooed them back to the Burrow with her apologies and promises to write.

And then her mother had told her tale. Hermione sat and listened while her mother described the horror of waking in the middle of the night to the screams of a hundred people, the acrid smell of burning flesh lingering in the air.

She'd told of how she was the only one to fight against Voldemort and the army of Death Eaters who were entertaining themselves at the expense of a small village in Scotland. How her power hadn't been enough and he'd captured her, tortured her in unspeakable ways. Unspoken hung the knowledge that he'd raped her. Eventually the Aurors had appeared, driven him away; freeing her.

A couple of months later she was living in a completely different part of the country, cut off from the wizarding world. Her magic had failed her, it was magic that had hurt her so badly and she had just wanted to get away from it all. She had never done magic since that night. Soon she found out she was pregnant with Hermione and she knew that, despite who her father was, Hermione would be her's and she would love her.

Throughout her mother's story, Hermione didn't speak. She didn't ask any questions, she didn't gasp in horror, she didn't cry. She just listened and took it all in.

All she could feel was shock. Hermione was numb. Intellectually she knew that it didn't change anything – despite what he seemed to think. It was the nature vs. nurture argument. So her father was evil, that didn't mean that she was evil too.

She tried to keep telling herself this, but deep down she knew that something had changed. Something had shifted within her when he had spoken those words to her. When he had slipped that ring on her finger. Was the ring a promise or a threat? Did his darkness run through her blood?

She still hadn't been able to get the ring off. Here she was, a week later, sitting on the Hogwarts Express and she still wore the ring. She didn't even feel it anymore, it was almost a part of her.

The train had just started moving when a shout raised her from her reverie.

"Hermione!" Ron's bright voice rose above the sound of the accelerating train.

"Hi, Ron," she smiled weakly at him, and at the black haired boy who had appeared in the doorway behind him, "hi, Harry."

"Hi," Harry replied, he looked concerned for some reason.

"Are you ok Hermione?" Ron asked her suddenly, taking a seat opposite her in the compartment, "you look a bit tired."

Harry nodded in agreement, the concern still on his face.

"I'm fine guys, just still not feeling great after being ill. Sorry I had to kick you out."

"It's ok," Harry replied, "I'm glad you did, I don't really want to get sick."

"Yes, it _would_ be a shame if Perfect Potter the Wonder Boy got sick, wouldn't it?" A snide voice came from the doorway, "what would the mudbloods of the school do if their protector was ill?"

"Get lost Malfoy," Ron, as usual, let his temper rise as the blond haired Slytherin uttered his most hated insult.

"What are you going to do to me Weasel? Puke slugs all over me again?" Malfoy's two massive cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, laughed from their position behind him, like the good little minions they were.

"You seem cockier now that your precious Daddy's broken out of Azkaban, Malfoy," Harry said calmly, standing to place a restraining hand on Ron's arm.

Despite being guarded by Aurors since the defection of the Dementors, Lucius Malfoy had managed to escape over the summer.

Hermione had to fight back a wave of nausea as Harry said the word "Daddy". It was strange how one word, such an innocent word too, could invoke such fear and pain within her.

None of them notice her pale though, they were all too intent on throwing their insults at each other.

"That's right Potter, my father is out, and he's a bit pissed at you for putting him in there in the first place. So I'd watch your back if I was you."

"Why do you keep coming to our compartment Malfoy? Is it just to give us updates on your family life? We don't really care what your Dad's doing, so if that's all you wanted to tell us you can get lost now. Don't you know by now that you're gonna get your ass kicked if you try anything? For the past six years you've bugged us on the train and for the past six years you've ended up humiliated. So if you want to get turned back into a ferret then stay, 'cause I've been practicing that particular charm and I'd love a chance to try it out."

Silence followed what was possibly the longest speech Harry had ever made to Malfoy, who looked shocked and unsure of what to do. Harry however just stood there with a small smile on his face, a look in his eyes daring Malfoy to reach for his wand, like an old Western gunfighter.

"That scar on your head has finally messed up your brain, Potter," Malfoy sneered with as much venom as he could muster, a confused look still on his face. "Don't worry, I'm going, the smell of the mudbloods and blood traitors is too much for me to handle."

Ron made a threatening move towards the smirking ferret face once more but Hermione stood up, rage coursing through her veins.

She didn't even have to say a word before all eyes were on her, something which she found uncomfortable yet intoxicating at the same time.

In the sudden silence she didn't even need to raise her voice to convey her anger, her brown eyes flashed but her voice was soft and almost serene. "Malfoy, you have no idea what the hell you're talking about. Just go away and leave us alone and I might consider letting you live."

Once more those words weren't her own, or were they? How many times over the past six years had she had the urge to kill Malfoy, he was such an infuriating prick. And it was true that she had slapped him in third year. Were her words Voldemorts doing or where they merely an extension of what she'd felt towards him for years?

"You're scum Granger, what makes you think that I would leave just because you tried to threaten me?" Malfoy's words were harsh but he had a look that was close to fear on his face as he stared at her.

"I'm only going to tell you this once Malfoy. Leave. Now. Or you will find out exactly how powerful I am and exactly how many curses I know." Hermione felt an ugly smile crease her lips and felt more powerful than she ever had in her life before.

God help her, she liked the feeling.

"This isn't over, Mudblood." He tried to sound tough but as Malfoy bid a hasty retreat from the carriage Hermione could almost taste the fear coming off him in waves.

"Way to go Hermione!" Ron turned to look at Hermione, who quickly removed the grin from her face and smiled sheepishly at her best friend.

"Yeah, he looked more scared than he did during that detention in the Forbidden Forest," Harry laughed loudly at the thought that the great Draco Malfoy was scared of Hermione the bookworm.

"Who would have ever thought he would be scared of a muggle-born?" Ron's tone was light and joking but his words hit Hermione hard. She longed to shout at him, to cry that she wasn't a muggle-born, that her blood was purer than his. Purer even than Malfoy's.

She didn't say anything though, telling them would make it true.

Her little display of power had left her feeling slightly drained and she slowly sat back down, her forced smile still on her face as she removed _Hogwarts: A History_ from her bag and tuned out the sounds of the boys discussion of how they could use Malfoy's new-found fear of Hermione to their advantage.

It was with some relief Hermione eventually left the compartment, looking for a bathroom where she could change, the train drawing ever closer to Hogsmeade station in the September darkness.

As she pulled on her robes she caught sight once more of the ring on her finger. She found it surprisingly easy to forget about it yet sometime during her threatening of Malfoy she could have sworn she felt it grow warm against her finger. She stared at it. There was no way that could have happened, she was imagining things. It was just a ring. An extremely creepy ring that she couldn't get off her hand, but just a ring nonetheless.

In the midst of her trying to convince herself of this, the heavy band throbbed against her finger, almost like a pulse.

Bile rose up in her throat, she was unable to tear her eyes away from it as the inscription turned red and a single, gleaming drop of blood formed on the warm gold, hanging there for an eternal second before dropping to splash onto the floor. She stared at the red stain, transfixed.

A loud banging sounded on the door, making Hermione jump, her heart in her throat and she whirled to face the door as Parvati's peevish voice came from the other side; "Hermione! You've been in there for ages, hurry up!"

It took her two tries to reply but she smoothed down her robes with shaking hands as she called out "I'll just be a second."

Risking one last glance in the mirror to see a pale, almost waxen face stare back at her, surrounded by her trademark bushy dark blonde hair, she composed herself as much as possible. She stepped out, ignoring Parvati's mumbled, "finally!" and made her way as sedately as possible back to her compartment, her thoughts once more on the ring.

Which was why she didn't notice Malfoy until he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an empty compartment, no doubt he'd scared the previous occupants away with a threat.

"There's something different about you Granger, what is it?" He still hadn't let her shoulders go and he shook her as he stared into her eyes, as though hoping to see the answer to his question in them.

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione just stared back at him, amused at the thought that she must have really scared him to elicit this type of response.

"Don't play dumb Granger. You're the good little Gryffindor girl, the know it all bookworm, so when the hell did you get that much power? Not just any power either, but Dark power."

"What do you know about Dark power Malfoy? You're just some silly little schoolboy with a sadistic streak. Now let me go and leave me alone."

"I know a lot more than you think about Evil, Granger, I grew up around it. What I want to know is where you got it from and why?"

She really didn't feel like discussing her parental issues with Malfoy so she tried to shrug his hands off her shoulders. He just gripped tighter and Hermione could feel her anger rising within her for the second time that day.

"I said let go of me." Her voice was cold and as the words fell from her lips she felt the ring give another throb, one that reverberated through her entire body. Malfoy suddenly pulled his hands away from her and cradled them close to his chest, as though he had been burnt.

He didn't even bother to disguise the fear on his face as he looked at her, or possibly he couldn't.

The train started to slow and the noise in the corridor grew increasingly louder as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogwarts station. Hermione made her way to the door, stopping briefly to put her lips close to Malfoy's ear and whisper to him.

"Just a friendly warning, Malfoy. Don't mess with me this year. Or you won't live long enough to regret it."

A/N - Please Please Please Review! It cheers me up when I'm skiving my work and have a look at my account and see that people have reviewed me!


	5. Barely Daring To Breathe

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 5: Barely Daring To Breathe**

**DISCLAIMER**: Ok, for those of you who haven't figured it out yet - none of this is mine! Except the plot! and the whole resemblance to the Star Wars 'guess who's you're dad? the most evil person in the universe!' thing is totally not my fault!

**A/N** – Just wanted to thank absolutely everyone who's reviewed so far, I'm so glad you're all enjoying my humble story!

* * *

"So, are you disappointed you didn't make Head Girl?" The trio were making their way back to Gryffindor Tower after the sorting feast, and Ron was still in a state of shock that Hermione hadn't been named Head Girl.

"Not really," Hermione flicked her bushy hair back from her face and thought for a second, "I mean, it's our last year, and there's enough to think about with our NEWT's coming up and our career choices, not to mention the fact that as seventh year Prefects we may have to preside over the younger students' detentions, and there's the DA to keep up. I don't think I would have the time to get through all this _and_ do Head Girl duties." _And there's the slight fact that I apparently have some new powers I need to figure out how to deal with. Oh yeah, and I've got Satan as a father,_ she added silently.

"Wow, Hermione," Harry looked a little bit intimidated, "I thought our last year was going to be fun, but it sounds like you've got it all planned out."

"Don't worry," she smiled at him as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, "I'll make sure there's plenty of time to torture Malfoy."

"Yeah, and now he's petrified of our Hermione here it's going to be a great year!"

Hermione muttered the password to the Fat Lady (_Unity_) and looked at Ron as they entered and made their way to their usual seats in front of the roaring fire.

"What do you mean 'petrified' of me?" She asked him almost incredulously.

"Didn't you see him staring at you all through the feast?"

"He wasn't staring at me," Hermione weakly tried to deny it but she'd felt his eyes upon her throughout the whole feast. Once or twice she'd looked up and met his eyes.

Those grey eyes that had held nothing but contempt for her for the past six years now filled with apprehension and something very much like curiosity. She had enjoyed staring emotionlessly at him until he dropped his eyes. Surrendered his will to her own.

"He was staring at you, and he didn't look very happy. I think he's a bit annoyed that you embarrassed him in front of his two pet apes, pretty soon all the Slytherins are going to know that you threatened him on the train and he ran away." Ron seemed to be in a very good mood as he went quiet, no doubt envisioning all the ways they could exploit this knowledge of the Slytherins' alpha male.

It wasn't until she was getting ready for bed that Hermione allowed herself to dwell once more on Voldemort.

Parvati and Lavender were sitting on Parvati's bed, already changed and chattering away loudly. It was their custom to do this at the start of every term, they would first start off discussing the guys – appraising them each in turn and either recognise or reject them as potential boyfriends. This done they would move on to the girls – who had changed over the summer, this girls hair, that girls clothes. Then came the part Hermione dreaded. They would attempt to make conversation with her. Knowing that she was best friends with both the famous Harry Potter and Ron, the apparent new 'hot guy' for this term, they inevitably tried to butter her up, looking for any scandal or gossip on the two men.

She sighed as she exited the bathroom in her pyjamas and almost ran to her bed. She knew that with the curtains closed they wouldn't disturb her and she wanted to make sure she had them drawn before the two girls' conversation about Pansy Parkinson's new hair cut could end.

She had just placed her right hand on the large bed, preparing to pull the covers back when the two words she dreaded to hear dropped from Lavenders lips in her sickeningly sweet 'I know you don't like me but I don't care because I want to know something' voice: "Say, Hermione…"

Hermione mentally groaned and turned round with a smile on her face as dazzling as a light bulb, and just as empty, _so close and yet so far!_ "Yes?"

"That's a really nice ring. Where did you get it?"

"Er…it was an early birthday present," Hermione replied, crawling onto the bed, hoping that the two gossips would take the fact that she had her back to them as a hint she didn't want to talk.

"Can I try it on?" Asked Parvati, reaching her hand over to take it even before she'd finished asking the question.

"No you can't," snapped Hermione, more harshly than she'd intended. "I…I can't get it off. It's a bit tight, I have to get it enlarged or something. Sorry."

"Ok," replied Parvati, looking slightly put out at the way Hermione had spoken. "Well, it's really nice anyway. What does the writing say?"

Hermione looked down at the band around her finger, the inscription glinting clearly in the lamplight and felt a shudder of revulsion run through her.

"I don't know, it's in Latin or something," she lied after a moment of hesitation. "Goodnight." With relief she pulled the curtains around her bed and muttered a simple silencing charm, a necessity when you shared a room with Lavender and Parvati, who would carry on chattering well into the night.

As the silence enveloped her she tried her hardest to ignore the thoughts that were niggling at the inside of her mind. She had managed to lose herself in the hustle and bustle of being back at school but now that there was nothing to distract her, memories of the train ride swam up behind her eyes.

Her threats to Malfoy, the glowing ring with its drop of blood, how Malfoy couldn't hold onto her.

All these things went round and round in her mind until she couldn't stand it anymore, she was on the verge of tears when her logical mind finally kicked in.

"I'm at Hogwarts," she whispered to herself, thinking out loud, thankful once more for the silencing charm, "I don't have to do anything that bastard wants, he can't get at me. In the morning I'll just go see Dumbledore and tell him what's happened and he'll know what to do."

Her mind temporarily at ease she allowed herself to fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that Dumbledore would sort everything out.

* * *

She entered the great hall the next morning and glanced up at the staff table hoping to see Dumbledore but it was deserted. Not surprising since it was only 6.30am and there were only a few students in there.

Unfortunately, Malfoy was one of them.

Her eyes scanned the room, noting the two chattering first year Ravenclaws and the solitary Hufflepuff fourth year and finally came to rest on Malfoy. She'd known that he was watching her from the second she'd stepped foot in the room.

She met his cold eyes and smirked at him until an angry flush spread delicately over his cheekbones and he dropped his gaze. Feeling oddly satisfied and slightly disgusted with herself for taking pleasure in his discomfort she turned and left, intent on finding Dumbledore.

She'd barely gone more than a few steps when footsteps sounded behind her and a rough hand pushed her into an empty classroom.

She spun around in indignation to see Malfoy close the door and press his back to it, facing her.

"What do you want Malfoy, a repeat of yesterday? Didn't you understand my warning?" Her voice was calm but she could feel anger begin to bubble once more in her veins and tried desperately to calm herself down, _why does he have this effect on me?_ she screamed silently although her outside expression was as calm as her voice.

"I wouldn't call that a warning, it was a threat Granger." Malfoy was once again pale and he strained to keep his famous Malfoy cool.

Hermione shrugged, "call it whatever you want, it doesn't bother me. What does bother me is the fact that I'm standing in an empty classroom with my most hated enemy and you're blocking the only door."

"You're not going to do anything to me Granger, you're too much of a goody two shoes, what would Potty say?" He smirked at her.

"Contrary to popular opinion, neither Harry nor Ron dictate what I do with my life. Now, I have things to do Malfoy so if you have a point, make it quickly, if not then just get out of my way now before I curse you." Pulling her wand out to emphasise her point she waited for him to move, but he didn't.

"I'm not going anywhere until you answer a few questions Granger. You've always been annoyingly powerful for a mudblood but it's different. Where did you get the power, who gave it to you and why?" He stared her straight in the eyes and Hermione had the prickly feeling he was looking through them.

Uncomfortable under his gaze it was Hermione who looked away first. She dropped her eyes and tried to ignore the voice inside her mind that was screaming at her to live up to her threats and hex him.

Taking a deep breath she raised her eyes once more and looked at him. "Malfoy, don't call me a mudblood; ancestry and bloodlines don't matter. And as for the power, I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut about it if you want to retain the use of your legs."

"What do Potty and the Weasel think of this change in you?" He asked her, seemingly unperturbed by her threat.

"I haven't changed Malfoy, I've just decided not to take any of your shit, that's all." She avoided his eyes once more.

He cocked his head to the side as though something had just occurred to him, "they don't know, do they? The high and mighty Harry Potter hasn't even noticed that his little girlfriend is filled with dark powers." He laughed mirthlessly, "don't worry, it'll be our little secret, as long as you answer my questions."

"I'm not going to answer your questions because there's nothing to say. Why are you so interested anyway?"

"I just want to know what it is that could finally bring Little Miss Gryffindor off her pedestal. I saw your face when you threatened me. You have this power and you like it."

Hermione put her head down and tried to think of something to say to him, but the ringing of the bell spared her. Footsteps made their way past the outside of the door and she kept her head down until she heard the door open and close. She looked up to find herself alone in the room and took another deep breath before opening the door and stepping out into the corridor.

* * *

Malfoy's distraction meant that Hermione didn't get a chance to visit Dumbledore as she'd planned.

It also meant that Harry and Ron spent the whole Care of Magical Creatures lesson with concerned looks on their faces, asking Hermione why she'd missed breakfast when Parvati and Lavender had told them she'd left the bedroom before they were awake. They also seemed worried about the fact that she looked like she hadn't slept well and still looked rather ill.

"For the last time, Harry: I'm. Fine." She snapped at him on the way back to the castle, "I know that you're worried I'm still ill, but I'm not. It's the first day back and I'm just settling back into things."

She stormed away as they stared open-mouthed at this outburst. She felt bad about shouting at them but they were doing her head in. She had too much to deal with, now that Malfoy had seemed to make it his mission to find out what was going on in her life.

That was another thing that bugged her, the fact that the guy she hated most in the school had perceived a change in her but her two best friends, the people who were supposed to know her the best, hadn't even noticed anything.

By the time she'd made it to the potions dungeon she felt guilty about shouting at the boys. They were just worried about her, which showed that they _had_ noticed something different about her, they just expected that whatever it was, she would tell them, especially if it was something bad.

She stood outside the room and waited for everyone else to arrive; her desire to get away from Harry and Ron meant that she was the first person there.

The person walking towards her didn't improve her mood much. Seven years and the Gryffindors _still_ had Potions with the Slytherins. Hermione watched Malfoy stride purposely towards her and mentally groaned, not looking forward to another argument with the Wonder Ferret.

Before he could reach her however, Professor McGonagall appeared behind him and looked over at Hermione. "Miss Granger, please find Mr Potter and Mr Weasley and then accompany them to the Headmasters office. Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape is unavoidably detained, please wait here and inform the rest of the students that this class is cancelled."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione murmured, feeling slightly worried at these cryptic instructions.

It didn't take her long to find Harry and Ron, after all they were headed towards the same place she was coming from.

She met up with them at the entrance to the dungeons and before they could say anything she cut them off.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about snapping at you back there, I just haven't been sleeping well. But I think something important is going on, McGonagall wants us to go to the Headmasters office."

"But what about Potions?" Harry asked after nodding his acceptance of her apology.

"It's cancelled, she said Snape's been 'unavoidably detained'."

"That's the best news I've heard in a while," grinned Ron, following Hermione up to Dumbledore's office.

McGonagall met them outside the office, a grim look on her face. "Follow me, please," she said quietly, before muttering the password and leading them up the stairs to the wooden door.

The trio entered to be faced with Dumbledore, Snape and, surprisingly, Tonks – all looking extremely serious.

"Sit down please." Dumbledore said, his voice as calm as it ever was, "I'm afraid there are a few things I need to inform you of."

They looked at each other apprehensively before making their way to the chairs in front of his desk he had indicated to. Tonks sat beside them in her own chair, her hair was currently blonde with lilac streaks and Hermione wondered what she was doing at Hogwarts.

Snape stood in the darkest corner of the room just staring malevolently at them.

"Due to the current climate, Nymphadora," Hermione saw Tonks roll her eyes at the use of her first name, "is to be your new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor for this year, I felt it prudent to have an Auror on the staff and, not surprisingly, Alastor Moody refused the position." He smiled at them, his first smile since they had entered the room.

"Something has come to my attention. I am telling you this in order to allow you to remain on your guard." His smile had faded now as he looked at each of them in turn.

"It seems that Voldemort has an heir."

**A/N** - Mwahahahaha! Cliffy! Please review! It totally makes my day!


	6. I Never Could Talk To You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 6: I Never Could Talk To You**

DISCLAIMER: Not Mine. Honest…

A/N – I forgot to mention this at the beginning (and although it's probably pretty obvious at this point, I'm gonna let you know anyway), this story was started pre-HBP, and it would have meant a _lot_of re-working and probably would have ended up really quite crap, this story is AU and doesn't take anything from HBP into account.

* * *

Despite the fact that she'd planned on telling Dumbledore that Voldemort was her father, a spurt of panic stabbed through her at his words, _How do they know? Do they know it's me? No, they can't, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't have brought the other two up here as well._

There was a shocked silence as Harry and Ron stared open mouthed at Dumbledore and Hermione's alarmed eyes flicked round at the different teacher's; Dumbledore's calm features; Tonks's grave look – at odds with her hair; Snape, unreadable as always.

Dumbledore seemed content to allow the silence to continue as long as necessary for the news to sink in.

"Er, could you tell us a bit more about this…heir, Professor?" Harry finally managed to get out, "how do you know about him?"

"Actually, we're not entirely sure if it _is_ a him," Dumbledore responded, nodding his head in Snape's direction, "All we have been able to determine, based on Professor Snape's connections within the Death Eaters, is that Voldemort has a child who is within the same age range as you. He or she is likely to be at Hogwarts, although there is a possibility that they are at a different school. We simply do not know. That is the reason for the extra protection. This person, if indeed they do attend Hogwarts, would be somebody who has been here all their school life, someone you know, whom you may have contact with on a daily basis. Nymphadora is here to aid in…scrutinising the pupils."

"It's obviously going to be a Slytherin though, isn't it?" Ron cut in, "I mean, You-know…Voldemort…is related to Slytherin so his kid would be there too."

"That seems most likely, Mr Weasley, however, I should think that after the many escapades you three have embarked upon during your time at Hogwarts, you would have discovered that the most likely explanation is rarely the correct one."

Ron opened his mouth to argue but Dumbledore raised a graceful hand.

"Nevertheless, it is a sound argument and we shall be watching the Slytherin students closely. It is important, though, that you do not fixate your suspicions solely upon the Slytherins and be wary of all the students. The Sorting Hat sorts pupils based on the _predominant_ aspect of their character, for example, if Voldemort's child is very clever, he or she may be in Ravenclaw, similarly if they are uncommonly loyal there is a chance they are a Hufflepuff."

"And Gryffindor?" Harry enquired with a slight edge to his voice.

"It is extremely unlikely that the child will be a Gryffindor, however it is possible. What better way to conceal a spy than to place them right in your midst?"

"So you think they're a spy then?" Harry was determined to glean as much information from the Professor as possible.

"I must confess that we do not know what this person's agenda is. From the information Professor Snape has provided me with, it seems that he or she did not even know about their heritage until sometime during the summer holidays. For reasons known only to him, Voldemort waited this long to reveal himself to his child. Though he had known about his offspring all along, they had no idea about the true nature of their father, indeed it is unlikely that he or she had even met Voldemort before the summer."

"So they might not be evil, then?" Hermione broke her silence, "If they didn't know that Voldemort was their…father, then they could just have grown up a normal person, couldn't they?" She was grasping at straws. Even though she knew it was stupid she felt like her fate hinged on Dumbledore's answer to her question.

If he said that yes, a person could be good no matter their bloodline then everything would be alright, however if he replied that evil was inherent then there was no hope for her.

She waited almost on the edge of her seat as the elderly wizard pondered what she had asked.

But before he could say a word, Harry cut in, venom and hatred dripping from his voice.

"Of course they're going to be evil, Hermione – there is no way you could have that _thing_ as a father and not be evil."

"Your ignorance never fails to astound me, Potter," Hermione jumped as Snape's smooth voice filled the silence that had followed Harry's display of anger, "with all of your arguments and fights with Malfoy to the contrary, here you are condemning someone for their blood."

"I'm not," Harry stood to look Snape square in the face, "this is different. I just don't think it's possible to be good when you've come from something that terrible."

"Severus," Dumbledore held up a hand as Snape opened his mouth to retort, "Harry, please. Ms. Granger does raise an interesting question, and alas, as so many times already today, I have to say that I do not know. We know nothing of this child other than their age and the identity of their father."

Tonks spoke for the first time since the trio had entered the room.

"Moody lent me a few of his dark detectors, I'll have a play about with them, see if I can get them to sense more than the usual teenage deception. I can already tell when kids haven't done their homework – I know all the excuses. I've _used_ all the excuses. Every kid in the school does Defence Against the Dark Arts, if I keep the detectors in the classroom they might pick up something."

"Very well. If there's nothing else, I believe all of you have classes to go to."

Hermione stood with the other two, her eyes on the floor. She'd seen what they would all think of her if they knew. She couldn't stand the thought that Harry would turn to her with that hatred in his eyes, the disgust dripping from his words, like he had when she'd spoken earlier.

No. She couldn't tell anyone. It was her problem, she had to deal with it herself. Just her.

* * *

The only topic of conversation for the rest of the morning between Harry and Ron was obviously the identity of Voldemort's offspring.

"It's got to be a Slytherin. There's no way on earth it would be anyone else. Can you imagine one of the Hufflepuffs having him as a dad?" Harry was saying during muggle studies.

"I dunno, Ernie MacMillan's always been a bit up himself. What's this?" Ron held out one of the items they were supposed to be labelling.

"Mobile phone. But he's still quite a nice guy, he did tell me he believed me when everyone thought I was making stuff up. And he's a DA member."

"Oh yeah," Ron replied, "What's this?"

"Thermometer."

"I know who it is! It's Dean Thomas!"

"No it's not."

"Yes it is," Ron was now looking daggers at Dean, who was innocently chatting away to Seamus.

"Ron, just 'cause the guy's going out with your sister doesn't mean he's Voldemort's son."

"He could be," Ron weakly defended himself, "what's this?"

"Ask Hermione, I'm in the middle of trying to thread this needle."

"Hermione…" Ron began, turning to the witch beside him who'd studiously ignored them all lesson.

"No, Ron, you've got the book sitting right in front of you. Just look it up instead of asking me and Harry."

Ron grumbled to himself as Hermione went back to her light bulb. Flicking half-heartedly through the book in front of him he eventually came across the right page.

"Cool," he muttered, looking at the picture of the item he held, "hey you two, watch this."

Hermione looked up just in time to see Ron launch what looked suspiciously like a boomerang across the room. She had a few seconds to admire how well he'd thrown it on what was obviously his first time before she remembered the whole point of a boomerang.

The whole class were now watching as it started turning to come hurtling back towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry as Ron just stood there looking pleased and excited, like a three year old with a new toy.

The thing was going really fast, Hermione noted, cursing the fact that her wand was in her bag. She heard Harry yelling at Ron to duck, only to be answered, "it's alright, it's not going to hit me."

He was right, it wasn't going to hit him, it was going to hit _her_! She just watched it come closer and closer, almost in slow motion as her body refused to listen to her screaming head and wouldn't move. _Death by boomerang. Wow. At least I'm original,_ came the fleeting thought.

She squeezed her eyes shut a split second before the curved piece of wood was about to impact and flinched in anticipation of it hitting her face.

Two extremely long seconds later she was still waiting for the collision. When it didn't come she hesitantly cracked open one eye, then the other, to see the boomerang hovering in the air right in front of her.

She looked round to see the shock on everyone's faces before lifting an unsteady hand to pluck it from the air.

"What happened?" She asked quietly, dropping the boomerang onto her desk.

"It just stopped," Harry said, his voice almost awed.

"See, I told you it would be fine," Ron smiled, "it's obviously got some sort of inbuilt safety device in it, muggles wouldn't be stupid enough to leave something that dangerous lying round without a safety feature."

"Tell that to the Australians," Harry muttered, "are you ok Hermione?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she gave a little laugh, "I thought it was going to hit me for sure, I'm quite happy it didn't."

"Why didn't it, though?" Ron asked, having finally realised that boomerangs weren't supposed to stop before they hit something.

"Probably one of those natural reactions, I can't remember what they're called, you know, the thing that makes you pull your hand back when you touch something hot. Like what you used to do Harry, remember when you told us about the time you accidentally jumped on the roof to escape your cousin? I think it was something like that."

Harry looked thoughtful, "that makes sense."

Now that all the fun was over everyone had gone back to their work, even – to Hermione's chagrin – the professor. _I've just nearly had my head smashed in, shouldn't you at least ask me if I'm ok, you stupid man._

Her eyes followed the professor as he moved around the room, not even stopping to see how Hermione was doing after her potential near death experience. As he smiled and spoke quietly two desks in front of her, explaining something to Parvati, Hermione felt a surge of anger burst through her and she felt heat travel up her right arm to envelop her body.

She couldn't tear her eyes from the professor, everything around the edges of her vision blurred until he was the only thing she could see clearly.

The rage was overwhelming her and a single thought resounded through her mind, _I could have been killed, that thing was bloody close and you did nothing to stop it, are you blind or something?_

A scream shattered her trancelike state and her vision snapped back, almost sharper than ever, just in time to see the small sewing needle that Harry had been trying to thread speeding through the air to impale itself with a sickening squelching noise right through the pupil of the professors left eye.

A/N – I just wanna cover my ass here; I love Australians – especially that hot guy who used to be in Neighbours and is now in House, can't remember his name (Jesse something?) anyway, he's really hot. So if anyone's offended by Harry's little comment about the Australians in regards to the boomerang, blame the fictional character and the inventor of the boomerang, not the poor little author.

Please Review!


	7. The Tongue Stuck in My Jaw

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 7: The Tongue Struck in My Jaw**

DISCLAIMER: If it was mine, I wouldn't let you read it for free. I'm not that nice. :-)

A/N - I know you can reply to reviews thru email but I just do it the old fashioned way and clog up my word count with my thanks every few chapters so here they are: Thank You so much everyone who's reviewed! And everyone who reads and adds me to their faves/alerts list, it means so much that you like my fic and I get this huge grin every time I see a review alert in my inbox. Couple of more specific things:

Roxy 101 - The plan is to update once a week, this fic is written up to chapter 18 and chapter 19 is in the works, so unless something comes up, i.e. I'm whisked away on holiday or (far more likely) I'm running late for a uni deadline, there should be a new chapter every week.

San01 - Being nasty is fun :-) Being nice is overrated.

tinted perception - Thanks for the Jessie Spencer info, he's really cute :-)

Allen Pitt - I meant to say this in my A/N last chapter, but ur review for chapter 5 was so cool, the idea of that just totallymade me laugh. Just thought I'd let you know.

* * *

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,_ ran the mantra in Hermione's mind as she watched Lavender lead the whimpering, half blind muggle studies professor out of the room, Parvati having run ahead to inform Madam Pomfrey they were headed to the hospital wing.

A shocked silence blanketed the remaining students as they all stared perplexedly at each other.

"Guess class is over," Seamus muttered in a vain attempt to break the unnatural stillness.

Everyone filed out of the room, quietly and slowly, Harry, Ron and Hermione hanging back so that their conversation could not be overheard.

"What the hell just happened?" Harry muttered in a tight voice as soon as he was sure everyone else was far enough in front of them, "do you think it was the heir?"

"It can't have been the heir," Ron replied, his face so pale the freckles stood out in stark relief, "that class is full of Gryffindors, there is no way a Gryffindor could be the heir. Maybe someone's spell backfired."

"It's a muggle studies class, no-one had their wand out. It would have had to be accidental magic, but someone would have to be really upset or angry to lose control that badly."

"No-one looked very angry, Hermione looked a bit shell-shocked, but I reckon that was probably just 'cause of the boomerang thing, wasn't it, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up, startled out of her reverie as Ron addressed her, "what?"

"We were talking about what just happened, weren't you listening?" Ron looked slightly peeved.

"No…I can't…I need to…think…I'll see you two at lunch, ok?" She avoided their eyes and hurried off down the corridor, ignoring the shouts of the two boys behind her.

The class hadn't even been halfway through when the incident had happened so the corridors were deserted, meaning there was no-one to see her as she almost ran through the halls and up the staircases, not knowing where she was going, only knowing that she needed to get as far away from everyone else in the castle as possible.

It was with this goal in mind that she eventually found herself at the top of the Astronomy tower. Staring out at the pure clear blue of the sky she took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart and fight back the bile that was rising every time she thought of the disgusting noise the needle had made as it penetrated her professor's eye.

"What the hell did I do?" She whispered, lowering her eyes to stare once more at the ring on her finger.

She couldn't deny that she had lost her temper with the professor, _stupid man, can anyone really blame me? He's hardly fit to be a professor. Stupid subject too. Why did I ever take a class about those pathetic mudblood scum anyway?_

She caught herself with a loud gasp. Where had that thought come from? She didn't think like that.

"God! What has he done to me? I don't want to be like this! I just want to be normal again, I don't want any of this!" She paced around the tower, forcing her eyes away from the ugly band she wore, her voice quiet as she talked to herself, yet full of the pain she wished she didn't have to feel.

"I didn't mean to do it, I swear I didn't. How can he get into my head from so far away? And how can I get him to leave me alone?" She muttered, trying to bully her usually logical brain to think past the panic and make itself useful.

"Get who to leave you alone?"

She whirled at the smooth voice from the doorway, eyes narrowing as she took in the blonde before her.

"Stalking is a crime you know, Malfoy," she pointed out bitterly, turning away from him so he couldn't see the glittering of unshed tears in her eyes.

"And talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. Who were you talking about?"

"Shouldn't you be in a class right now, Malfoy?"

"Like Binns is going to notice that I'm not there. When am I ever going to need History of Magic anyway? Besides, you can't talk, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be in Muggle Studies."

"There was an accident and we got out early. What do you want?" She fought to get her face under control and stop her hands fidgeting before turning back to look at him.

"You ran past me on the fourth floor and didn't acknowledge me, not even to shout at me for not being in class. You've started to interest me, Granger. I don't like not knowing something, especially something relating to the Dark arts. And we never did get to finish our little chat this morning."

"That's because there's nothing to say," she really didn't want to have this conversation, "so leave me alone. Please."

Her 'please' made Draco pause, it was probably the first reasonably civil thing she'd ever said to him.

She took his silence as acquiescence and moved towards him, intending to push past him and descend the staircase, however he had other plans.

As she put her right hand on his chest to push him gently out of the doorway he grabbed it.

"What are you doing? Let go of me." She tried to jerk back from him but he just tightened his grip.

"Listen to me Granger. I might not know a lot about what's happening to you but I know enough. You're frightened of it. And you don't want your little boyfriends to find out. So, like I've already offered you, I won't tell them if you tell me."

She stopped her struggling momentarily, "why do you want to know? Honestly. Because I don't buy this crap about it just being curiosity."

His jaw clenched and he seemed to be working hard at schooling his face to show nothing, "that is my business Granger."

"And _this_ is mine." She resumed her pulling but he was stronger than he looked, _damn those Quidditch muscles,_ she thought fleetingly.

She was fighting so hard to get loose that she almost didn't notice his face go slack and his eyes drop to her small hand held in his. Too late she realised that it was her right hand that he held.

"Malfoy, let go of me right now," her voice bordered on panicky but he didn't take any notice, instead he loosened his grip almost imperceptibly and gazed at the ring on her middle finger.

He abruptly dropped her hand and pushed her away from him. She stumbled back against the wall separating the tower's walkway from the 100 foot drop.

She raised her eyes to look into his, fearing what she would see. His grey eyes were full of shock and he looked like he was having trouble forming a coherent thought.

"It can't be…" he breathed, "where did you get that ring, Granger?"

"Malf…" she started hesitantly.

"Where did you get that ring, Granger?" He repeated, more forcefully.

"What do you know about this ring?" She asked, still uncertain, yet undeterred.

"More than I want to." His statement was simple and his face was once more falling back into its perpetual sneer, eyes cold once more. "You're wearing the Ring of Darkness. I never thought I'd see it. And I definitely never thought I'd see it on the hand of a Gryffindor mudblood."

"I've told you numerous times not to call me that." She spoke harshly at the old insult.

He ignored her and carried on like she hadn't said a word, "be careful, Granger. That ring is supposed to be extremely powerful. That's where the power is coming from. Can't you feel it? Sending shivers over your skin? Whispering naughty little urges in your mind? Warm inside, with promises of power? If you don't watch out, Hermione, you might do something you regret."

He had turned and was halfway down the stairs before she had even realised that he'd used her first name. She marvelled at this for a second before another, more disturbing thought intruded.

Now he knew about the ring.

* * *

Almost gagging with the irony of it all, Hermione spent the rest of the day and the next morning searching out Draco with her eyes, trying to catch him alone, looking for him, after she'd previously been admonishing him for not leaving her alone.

He hadn't told anyone else about the ring, that much was obvious, Harry and Ron didn't look at her any differently and a quick glance at the teachers table during each meal showed not one of them paying any extra attention to her.

But still her stomach felt tight with worry and apprehension. She had injured her Muggle Studies professor – true, it was an accident, but how many people would believe that if Malfoy's reaction to the ring was any indication of its power.

She'd spent at least two hours in the bathroom before going to bed the previous night, trying again to remove it. Not surprisingly she was unsuccessful.

She kept her eyes on Malfoy all through lunch, watching his internal struggle as he fought to keep from looking up and matching her gaze.

Absently answering a question from Harry regarding the weekend, an early Hogsmeade weekend to keep up morale within the students, she watched Malfoy glance at her pointedly and begin to rise. She gave him a couple of minutes and then made her excuses to Ron and Harry, gathering her things and following him out of the hall.

She peered into the empty classroom he'd dragged her into the previous morning and saw him, his back leaning against a desk, head down so his blonde hair obscured his face.

"You didn't tell anyone about the ring," she said by way of greeting, slipping inside and shutting the door, not taking her eyes off him as he raised his head, "why not?"

"Self-preservation. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop following me around the school, Granger." His tone was as empty as his eyes as they bore into her.

"Now you know how I felt when you wouldn't leave me alone." She replied calmly. "I'll leave you alone if you don't tell anyone about the ring. Or the power," she added as an afterthought.

"Done. Can I go now?" He stood up straight and moved towards the door she was standing beside.

"Can I ask you a favour though?" The words tumbled out before she had a chance to think about them.

"A favour?" Hermione almost laughed, this was the second time in two days she'd actually managed to surprise him.

"Yeah. Well…" she hesitated, "obviously you know more about the ring than I do, I didn't even know what it was called. I want to know what books I can find information about it in. You know, so I can do some research. From what I can tell, it's not likely to be in one of the books in the library."

Malfoy deliberated a moment. "I'll think about it."

He saw her almost smile in relief, "don't get any ideas Granger, I'm not doing it out of the good of my heart, it's just more to hold over your head when I want something."

With that cheerful thought he swept past her, leaving her in a confusing mix of excitement and fear.

* * *

The weather had eventually decided to act like September and a cold wind blew through Hermione's hair as she made her way down to Hogsmeade, laughing and joking with Harry and Ron like nothing was wrong.

She actually felt relatively happy for the first time in a while; her fingers were enveloped in thick gloves, hiding the sight of the ring; the Muggle Studies professor had gotten out of the hospital wing that morning, healed after what was widely accepted as just a freak accident; Malfoy hadn't said a word or looked at her since that morning in the classroom.

She could almost believe things were back to normal. An illusion she tried extremely hard to maintain.

Twenty minutes in Zonko's joke shop, however, was the most she could bear, listening to Ron and Harry practically cooing over one thing or another was too much for her and she left for the sanctuary that was a nearby bookstore, after arranging to meet them in the Three Broomsticks in an hour.

Hermione wandered the aisles, revelling in the peace. Not many students came in here – after all, they had all the books they would ever need in the library at Hogwarts, why would they want to spend one of their rare free Hogsmeade weekends looking at books?

She breathed a contented sigh as she reached for a book. The sigh however turned into a gasp of fright as someone grabbed her from behind and, with a loud crack, apparated with her before she could do or say anything.

She looked up, pushing off her assailant, to see a sight she'd been dreading for the past fortnight.

"Crap."

A/N - Ok, so not much action, but it sets it up so that there's a few subtle and a few not-so-subtle clues about some things that could happen later on.PLEASE REVIEW! pretty please with a cherry on top?


	8. A Brute Like You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 8: A Brute Like You**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters, places etc. etc. etc. blah blah blah. Honestly…

Hermione stood in the same dingy room where her whole life had changed just two weeks ago, this time, however there was just her, Voldemort, and Lucius Malfoy.

She elbowed Malfoy in the side, earning herself a small "oomph!" and getting his greasy mits off her. Her eyes followed him as he went to stand beside his master, one hand on his sore ribs.

"Glad you could join us, _daughter._" She flinched as a chill ran through her, merely from Voldemorts voice.

"Don't call me that." Despite her best efforts, her voice still wavered as she tried to show her defiance.

"Ah, but why not?" He grinned manically and moved slowly closer to her, Malfoy hanging back, "you are my daughter, are you not?"

"I already have a father. He is a muggle and he has raised me since I was born. You're just an evil bastard who tortured my mother." She raised her face to meet his scarlet eyes, although she could only hold his gaze for a second before she had to look away.

He raised a gloved hand, impossibly long fingers gripped her chin and forced her to look at him again. "Such defiance. Just like your mother, she fought me as well."

Hermione struggled, trying to get free of him but his grip was like steel, no matter how hard she fought, his hand never moved.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother! Get off me now." Her words were confident and her voice steady but her heart was pounding within her chest, her lungs felt tight like she wasn't getting enough air, and the ring she wore had started pulsing against her finger.

He dropped his hand from her chin and she stepped back away from him, her eyes on the ground so she didn't have to look at that face. She didn't care if it showed weakness, she just couldn't bear being that close to him.

Voldemort smiled, "tell me child, what have you been doing that has been causing the ring to generate such power?"

She lifted her eyes in shock, "I…don't know what you mean," she lied quickly.

"Do not lie to me girl. I know when the Ring of Darkness is used, and I know the kind of magic that controls it. You didn't utilise it by charming a cup to dance, or transfiguring a quill. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, now let me go." Hermione watched him take a step closer to her. She tried to step back but once more her muscles seemed to have frozen, she couldn't move, whether from fear or from some spell he had cast, she didn't know, all she could do was watch him come closer, anger on his face.

"I said, do not lie to me," his voice was low and colder than she had ever heard it before. He raised his wand and pointed it at her, "_crucio._"

She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Waves of pain crashed over her, her vision was blurred and dotted. No sound escaped her, it wasn't heroism, she just didn't have the air.

After a lifetime of pain, Voldemort lifted the curse and she sank to the ground, tears streaking her face.

"Children should be taught to respect their parents." She vaguely heard him say to Malfoy who murmured his agreement.

"Do you need another dose of punishment or will you answer my question now?"

Hermione looked up; from her position on the floor he seemed impossibly tall. Hesitantly she dragged in a breath and slowly began to speak, "I…didn't mean to do anything. It was an accident. I hurt the muggle studies professor, I flew a needle into his eye."

Voldemort smiled evilly, "well done girl."

"I didn't want to! It wasn't me, it was the ring!"

His tone grew mocking, "poor little Gryffindor. Doing all these wicked little deeds and not being able to stop it. Remember this child: the ring strengthens your power and focuses it, however the things you do – the accidents – are all tied to you. The ring will help these things happen but _you_ are the one that wants them to happen. _You_ are the one who causes them to happen. Despite what you tell yourself, it is your fault."

"You're wrong. You're lying to me. I'm not like that. I'm not like _you_." She unsteadily got to her feet, trying to ignore the fact that she was swaying slightly as she looked at him with disgust in her face. "I didn't want that to happen, I didn't do it."

"You did it girl, whether you meant it or not is irrelevant." Anger seethed in his voice, "Despite what you seem to think I can no more control you than I can Potter. You are like me. More than you want to admit. One day you shall cease fighting and you will join me willingly. Until then I advise you to be civil, I am not a lenient person."

Hermione could see that it would be useless arguing anymore, he looked livid and she didn't think she could stand another bout of the cruciatus curse. She wasn't thinking about disagreeing with him or trying to reason that she was a good person anymore, now all she could think of was getting away, back to the safety of the castle.

"Why did you bring me here?" This was something that had been bothering her since she'd shrugged off Lucius' hold on her and looked around.

"Come now, do I really need a reason to see my daughter?" He was mocking her. A smile passed over his face. It was unnerving how much that smile frightened her more than his anger.

She didn't say anything, antagonising him further would surely keep her here for longer than she wished to be.

"You're learning respect already, I see."

She met his gaze once more, her temper flaring with the comment he'd made, her eyes flashed with anger, "I don't respect you, I'll never respect you. You're pathetic."

"_Crucio_."

The pain was horrendous, it was even worse the second time around, a million burning pokers were pressed into her flesh, her muscles spasmed, spilling her to the floor again. Very dimly she was aware that tears were streaming down her face and whimpers were being pulled from her lips.

When Voldemort lifted his wand she just lay there on the dirty floor, twitching slightly. God, it was so terrible, the pain was so great.

"Get up." She hadn't even realised that she'd closed her eyes until his words caused her to open them.

"I said get up." She flinched as his harsh words whipped across her.

Shakily she got to her feet once more, her eyes on his feet.

"Look at me." She didn't need telling twice and raised her streaming eyes to look at his face.

"Will you now treat me with the respect I deserve?"

She knew that he could see the truth in her eyes even as she lied to him, "yes."

"You are a terrible liar. Still, at least you are not insulting me anymore. Now, I have more important things to do than educate you on the folly of your ideals so I will get this over with. Once you have finished your seventh year at Hogwarts you will be given the Dark Mark and you will stand at my right hand as I cleanse this earth of the unworthy. Until then I won't have much use for you. Like it or not you are my daughter and you are as black inside as I am. It will overwhelm you soon enough, however hard you try to fight against it. It will amuse me to see you struggle against your destiny and that is part of the reason I am not…re-educating you right now."

"Only part?" She asked numbly.

"Yes. I also wish to turn your friendship with Potter to my advantage. You are one of his closest friends, you have aided him in his battles against me several times. You know his weaknesses. I am not fool enough to attack him under the nose of Dumbledore, therefore when you return to me at the end of your schooling you will help me defeat him. And you will enjoy it."

Hermione kept her eyes on the ground. He couldn't seriously believe that she would do that? That she would spy on her best friend so he could continue with his plans of total dictatorship.

"I can see that you do not accept this. Don't worry, eventually you will tire of fighting something you cannot beat. Malfoy."

Footsteps made their way closer but still she didn't raise her gaze. A hand gripped her around the upper arm and finally she looked up to see Lucius' expressionless face. She had time for one last fleeting look in the direction of her supposed father before Lucius apparated with her.

The second that they appeared in Hogsmeade she threw off his hand and reached for her wand. Strangely it hadn't even occurred to her to wield it when in Voldemort's presence; what use would it have been?

Now, however she pointed it at the blonde before her, "touch me again and that bastard will have to pick a new second-in-command."

A humourless smile touched his lips, "why, my dear, I believe that decision has already been made." Before she could react to these words he had disapparated leaving her alone in the alleyway behind the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

"Granger you look like shit."

Hermione just walked past Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies without even looking at them. The small pub was packed and, although she knew that it had been less than an hour since she'd left Harry and Ron in Zonko's she still looked around for any sign of red or black hair.

Determining that they hadn't arrived yet she made her way as discreetly as possible to the small bathroom. Thankfully it was empty.

A full sized mirror ran along the wall opposite the hand basins and Hermione stared at her dishevelled reflection. Malfoy hadn't been exaggerating. Her hair was a state, writhing in pain on the floor had loosed most of it from the braid she'd tied it back into; her clothes were wrinkled and covered in dust and dirt, and the only parts of her face that weren't covered in the dirt that adorned her robes were the tear tracks.

With shaking hands she washed her face and smoothed and tidied her hair and clothes as much as possible. Washing the dust off her face brought the dark circles under her eyes into sharp relief.

She looked into the mirror once more before she left, looked at herself more searchingly than she could ever remember. She looked for some sign, some hint that what he had said was true. As she stared at her own wide brown eyes she searched for the darkness he had spoken of.

After a moment though she turned away, not being able to stand the thought of what she might find lurking within her.

Harry and Ron weren't hard to spot and as she lowered herself down beside them, her abused muscles aching in protest, she smiled, noticing that they had already bought her a butterbeer.

"Hey Hermione," Ron greeted her warmly not noticing anything different about her appearance, "find anything in that bookshop?"

"What?" It took her a moment to process what he'd said to her, "oh, no, there was nothing really, I've already got most of them."

Harry grinned, "Why does that not surprise me?"

"So what did you guys get?"

Hermione listened to them relaying everything they'd bought for a few minutes before tuning out. Draco was sitting at the bar alone, his minions having deserted him for some reason. He was staring right at her and Hermione flushed as she realised that they'd been staring at each other for several moments without her even realising it.

"Hermione?"

Harry's voice broke her from her reverie. "What?"

"Are you ok? You seem a bit…distant."

She felt strange, shaky and almost floaty, she couldn't really focus on anything but it didn't seem to matter. _Is this what shock feels like?_ She found herself wondering absently before realising that she didn't really care.

"I'm fine Harry, I think I might just be a bit tired or something, that's all. I'm going to head back up to the castle now. I've got some homework to finish." She stood and gave them a weary smile.

"Do you want us to walk up with you?" He sounded concerned.

"No, you two stay, don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Before any more questions could be thrown at her, Hermione quickly strode to the door, ignoring the indignant cries of people she pushed out of her way.

Once she was outside she took a deep breath of the cool, clean air and started to feel slightly better, it was too stuffy in there. Slowly she started strolling up the hill towards the castle. The path was empty, most people didn't return to Hogwarts this early in the day.

"Hermione, wait!"

A stab of annoyance ran through her, didn't Harry ever listen? She told him she didn't need an escort.

She stopped and turned around to watch him running towards her.

"You forgot this," he held up a book.

"That's not mine."

"It was sitting on your chair, I just thought you'd put it down and forgotten about it." He handed it to her.

A gasp escaped her as she looked at the cover, _Dark and Dangerous Artefacts: A study of items enhancing or containing the darkest of magic._ So Draco had decided to help her after all.

"Oh, thanks, I did forget about it." She turned to go.

"Are you really ok Hermione?" Harry gently grabbed her shoulder, only to be shrugged off.

"I told you I'm fine." Her voice was cold but that didn't seem to deter him.

"I know you're not fine. You look like you haven't been sleeping, I can see that you're in pain even though you're trying to hide it, and suddenly you're looking at books about dark magic. Tell me what's wrong."

Now she was angry. What right did he have to butt into her life and think that he had to know every single little thing about her?

"Harry, just leave me alone, why aren't you listening to me?"

"Because there's something you're not telling me!"

"So now I have to tell you everything?" She shouted, "why do you think you're so great that you have to know everything about everyone? So I have some secrets Harry, everyone does. Deal with it."

She pushed him away from her and paced along the path, but he followed.

"I'm not saying I need to know everything about everyone Hermione, I'm just saying that I'm worried about you and if there's something wrong I would prefer that you told me instead of shutting me out. Me and Ron are your friends. We would listen to you if you told us what was happening."

"But you never listen to me, do you Harry?" She sneered, "I'm just the bookworm, I sit in the library looking up spells and stuff for _you_ to use. Even when I do have an opinion or a suggestion to make you never listen to me. You're too intent on running around saving the world to take heed of anything the 'know-it-all' has to say."

"What do you mean? I don't treat you like that." Harry looked shocked and she knew that she should just apologise and walk away but something inside her wouldn't let her give up this argument.

"Yes you do. You _and_ Ron. I'm good enough to do the research but I'm not good enough to help think of the strategies. You only ever listen to what I have to say when all your plans have turned out wrong.

"For example, you and I both know that Sirius would still be alive if you hadn't thought you were too superior to listen to me. Your saving people issue backfired on you and it's all your fault because you didn't listen!"

A/N – Please review if you liked it! Hey, review even if you didn't like it, how am I going to improve if people don't tell me where I'm going wrong?


	9. I Made A Model Of You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 9: I Made A Model Of You**

DISCLAIMER: Yes. I am panicking about essays and reports and presentations for my uni course because I'm the millionaire who came up with Harry Potter. Sorry, but no. I don't own any of it.

A/N – Ok, time for more thanks! Thank you so much again to all my reviewers! Avelynn Tame, your review made me smile so much, I'm so glad that you're enjoying my story so far and I hope I can live up to your praise and keep writing everyone in character. Silver Tears 11 – I'm afraid your just gonna have to keep reading to find out, lol. Avanell, I'm contemplating some romance but I haven't decided whether or not to put some in there yet.

* * *

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth in the deafening silence that followed her outburst. For a second she stared at Harry, his face pale, eyes dark and unreadable.

"Oh God, Harry…I didn't mean it, I swear, I don't know why I said that…" She stammered, taking a step closer to him.

A feeling of guilt and disgust at herself twisted inside her chest when he took a step back, away from her, his empty gaze boring into her.

"Harry, please, I was angry, I didn't know what I was saying, I'm so sorry," her hands clenched around the book she was holding, squeezing so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her fingers began to ache.

She couldn't stand the way he was just looking at her, his emerald stare penetrating her, looking deeper inside her than she allowed even herself to see.

"Please just say something," her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to hold back the tears that threatened.

"You've changed Hermione. You don't want my help, fine. I won't bother you again. Just stay away from me from now on."

She tried to muster up her voice to shout after him as he turned and strode back down the hill, his movements stiff and angry, but what came out of her mouth was little more than a sob.

Hermione stood watching the path long after he had disappeared, the breeze whipping loose strands of her hair about her face to catch on the salty tear tracks that adorned her cheeks.

* * *

After what felt like hours and more tears then she'd known it was humanly possible to cry, Hermione was to be found lying on her bed, upon which she'd thrown herself in a rage born of self-pity and hatred when she'd finally stormed back up to the castle.

Once the tears had subsided she'd lain on her back and stared at the ceiling, trying to think.

Why now?

Why were all these things happening to her now? What had changed? Finding out that Voldemort was her father couldn't be the only reason for her newfound…bitchiness, for lack of a better word. Sure, she'd had wicked little sadistic urges now and then but that was nothing compared to what she was like now. What she'd been like since her first meeting with _him_.

So what had changed within her? She wrung her hands in despair, absently running her thumb over the smooth band she wore, warmed to her body heat.

Suddenly something occurred to her. What if something _inside_ her hadn't changed?

Not bothering to wipe her face or sort her hair she sat up and reached over the side of the bed to pick up the book she'd carelessly thrown to the floor when she'd entered the room.

Touching it now with the reverence and respect she generally showed all books, especially ones that were as ancient as this one seemed, she carefully opened it, flicking through the pages until she found what she was looking for.

She paid no heed to the piece of parchment that dropped from the tome, fluttering to the floor, instead her eyes scanned the page before her, the one topped with a picture of the very ring she wore.

_The Ring of Darkness _

Believed to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself, this ring has been lost since the middle ages, thus the full extent of its magical properties are unknown.

Many myths and legends are attached to the Ring of Darkness, so many that it is difficult to determine fact from fiction. What does seem to be clear though is that this artefact responds to the wearer's darkest intent, supplying them with the power to make their intention happen.

While it is highly unlikely that this is the only power of the Ring, it is impossible to gather any more information, it having been lost so long that many wizards believe that it has been destroyed or did not even exist to start with.

That was it? She had indebted herself further to Draco Malfoy only to read something that she had already heard? In fact, the only thing she had learned from the book was that the ring had not been seen in aeons, and that it had once belonged to Slytherin, _wow,_ she thought wryly, _a family heirloom. I feel so honoured_.

Hermione picked up the piece of parchment that had fallen from the open book and read the hastily scribbled words with trepidation.

_Granger _

Why is my father so interested in you? Meet me at the top of the Astronomy tower at midnight tonight.

Draco Malfoy

Should she meet him? Hermione found herself torn between several different possibilities, meeting Malfoy alone at the top of a high tower at midnight didn't seem the safest thing in the world to do, especially since he always seemed able to rouse her anger. Then there was what Harry and Ron would think if they knew she was having clandestine get-togethers in the middle of the night with the Slytherin.

It was this thought that roused her from her vague wonderings. It didn't really matter what Harry and Ron would think anymore as it seemed unlikely they would ever talk to her again, not after what she'd said, or shouted rather, to Harry.

Gradually people began to trickle back from Hogsmeade, bragging to each other about their new robes from Gladrags Wizardwear, demonstrating the latest Zonko's tricks, or stuffing their faces with the offerings from Honeydukes. Hermione shut the curtains round her bed and lay quietly, ignoring Lavender and Parvati when they came in gushing over the latter's new gloves, which came complete with heaters in the fingertips.

Her stomach was growling by dinnertime but still she didn't move. Her mind and body were blissfully numb, leading her to the conclusion that shock was a wonderful affliction, better than a lobotomy, and she didn't want to face Harry any sooner than she had to.

Hermione knew she owed him an apology, a _huge_ one, but she still couldn't help feeling that he took her for granted. There was a resentment towards him growing inside her and the longer she thought about it, the more it bothered her.

Time drifted by in odd chunks, sometimes it seemed an hour had raced by her when she was looking the other way, other times it took an eternity for five minutes to crawl past.

An imperturbable charm on her bed hangings discouraged the other girls from harassing her, apparently her absence at dinner had been explained away very vehemently by a certain pissed off green-eyed boy and now the gossip-mongers wanted the other side of the story. They eventually gave up when it was apparent nothing was getting through her curtains.

Eventually all was quiet and her time for deliberating over her meeting with Malfoy had been spent.

Wearily she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and padded softly from the room, each footstep punctuated with the regular breathing of her dorm mates.

The common room was almost empty, only Harry and Ron remained. They cast her a cursory glance as she passed them, met with an empty stare of her own. None of them said a word.

She shivered as she made her way along the corridors, it was a cold autumn night and she wasn't thinking clearly enough to bring a cloak with her. Once or twice she paused, hearing footsteps behind her, only to hold her breath and be greeted with the sound of her own beating heart instead of the footfalls she imagined.

Hermione was almost out of breath by the time she had ascended the many stairs leading to the top of the Astronomy tower to find Malfoy waiting for her.

* * *

"I don't think this is a very good idea," Ron hissed to Harry as they watched Hermione clamber through the portrait hole.

"There's definitely something wrong with her. If she won't tell us then it's up to us to find out for ourselves," replied Harry, pulling his invisibility cloak out from under a cushion and, with some difficulty, throwing it over himself and Ron.

"Maybe there's a reason she doesn't want us to know."

They opened the portrait hole in time to see a head of bushy brown hair turning a corner and as quietly as possible followed her, continuing their conversation in low tones, pausing at times when they saw her stop and seem to be listening for something.

"Just look at her, she looks terrible. You know Hermione, she'll never ask for any help but I really think she needs some."

"I still can't believe she said that to you today. It doesn't sound like anything our Hermione would say or even _think_."

"Exactly. And she's reading books on dark magic and going for midnight wanderings."

"Harry," Ron said, suddenly apprehensive, "you don't think…you don't think it could be _her_? The heir, I mean."

He took a sidelong glance at his friend and noticed a shocked expression on his face, as though this possibility hadn't occurred to him at all.

"It's just that she's been kind of bad tempered since we got back to school, and there's that book and stuff."

"It can't be her. She's…well, she's a Gryffindor for a start, and if she _was_ the daughter of Voldemort then she wouldn't be in Gryffindor."

"Dumbledore and Snape seemed to think it was a possibility." He was breathing heavily as they trudged up the stairs of the tower.

"No, Dumbledore said it was extremely unlikely, Snape was just being a git and trying to wind me up as usual."

It seemed that Ron would say more but Harry motioned for him to quiet on their approach to the top of the tower.

Ron nearly had a fit when he watched Hermione approach the wall surrounding the rooftop and recognised the blonde boy waiting for her.

* * *

"I wasn't sure if you would actually come." Malfoy didn't take his gaze off the stars.

"I had to. Couldn't run the risk of you telling anyone my little secret could I?" She moved up to stand beside him, placing her hands on the wall and facing out into the dark grounds, lit sporadically when clouds drifted away from the moon.

"Did you find the book useful?" He finally turned to look her in the face, surprise showing for a split second on his face before he resumed that careful blankness the Malfoy's were infamous for.

"Not really. It didn't say much and what little it did say I already knew. I appreciate you lending me it though."

"I saw you with my father today." His eyes never left her, watching to see her reaction.

Hermione pushed herself away from the wall, only to have him grab her wrist, stopping her from moving any further.

"Let go of me."

"What did he want?"

"Yet another thing that is none of your business. Don't you get tired of asking me questions I won't answer?" For the first time since she'd watched Harry walk away from her some feelings were stirring within her, breaking through the apathy she'd been carrying around.

You'll answer me eventually. You look worse than usual today, Granger. What happened?" He still hadn't let go of her arm and she didn't really have the strength or the will to pull away.

"I met with someone who doesn't have any qualms about hurting people. Reminded me of you. Why did you want me to meet you?"

"Let's try something different. Have you ever heard the phrase Quid Pro Quo?"

"Of course I have, so what? You won't answer my questions until I answer yours, is that it?"

"It's only fair."

She laughed sharply, "you're a Slytherin, you don't do 'fair'." She pulled her wrist out of his hold and he let her.

* * *

Harry had only heard the first exchange between the two figures on the tower when Ron sucked in a breath beside him.

"So _that's_ what's wrong with her! That bastard's blackmailing her for something."

"She wouldn't let herself be blackmailed though, would she?" Replied Harry as quietly as possible.

"You heard what she said; 'couldn't run the risk of you telling anyone my little secret,' he has something on her and she's too ashamed to tell us."

A whispered argument ensued between the two hidden boys over what hold Malfoy could have over Hermione.

When it seemed their discussion was becoming heated enough that it was only a matter of time before one of them forgot the importance of being quiet, Harry decided to drag Ron back to the common room.

The last thing he heard as they descended the staircase – Ron somewhat unwillingly – cemented in his mind the idea that Malfoy was Hermione's reason for acting so oddly;

"You're a Slytherin, you don't do 'fair'."

* * *

"You'd be surprised." Draco continued, oblivious to what had just taken place in the doorway behind him, "how about you tell me why my father wanted to see you and I tell you why I'm so interested in your new trinket." Draco gestured to the ring on her finger and she self-consciously covered it with her other hand, as though it had been her underwear he'd been referring to.

"Fine. He was sent to find me so I could be given…a job offer of sorts. One that I have no interest in taking. Now answer my question."

She was surprised when he didn't make any further comment on his father's interest in her. Instead he sighed and actually seemed to consider his answer.

"That ring shouldn't be here. I don't just mean here at Hogwarts, I mean it shouldn't even be intact anymore, it's thousands of years old, it should have rusted through by now. I've heard legends about it for years, it's a Holy Grail of sorts for Witches and Wizards. Everyone knows that the Sorting Hat belonged to Gryffindor but no-one ever seems to think any of the other founders left anything behind. Whereas Gryffindor made the hat intelligent and neutral, Slytherin, before he left Hogwarts, poured a lot of his power into the ring and placed it in the Chamber of Secrets until someone worthy could find it and claim it.

"Because he wasn't one of the nicest guys in the world, the vast majority of the power that the ring holds is dark. The only known person to enter the Chamber of Secrets, other than the mini Weasley and those delusional 'superheroes' you hang out with, is the Dark Lord. So, being that it obviously survived a few thousand years in a dark damp cave, the only person who should be wearing that ring is Voldemort himself."

"Well, you've been doing your homework," Hermione said dryly. Despite her cool exterior her heart was pounding within her chest, he was so close to the truth.

"I'm curious."

She stared at him for a couple of heartbeats, trying to discern how much he could possibly know about the reason she had the ring. _Does he even know Voldemort has an heir?_

"I got a letter from my father a few days ago," he broke the silence with an expressionless voice, "I've been told to keep an eye on you and report back to him such things as your relationship with Potter, any trouble you get into with teachers, the sort of books you're reading, stuff like that."

Hermione waited for him to demand why his father would want to know those things about her, instead he just fell silent and turned his face back to the grounds.

"Like I said, they want me for a job, something I'm not willing to do, no matter what they do to me."

Draco didn't even bother to ask who 'they' were, she supposed it was kind of obvious.

She stared at him until he faced her again and her cinnamon eyes met his stormy grey eyes and something flitted through her mind, a thought that didn't belong to her.

_Join the club_.

A/N – Hopefully you enjoyed it. Please leave a review!


	10. If I've Killed One Man, I've Killed Two

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 10: If I've Killed One Man, I've Killed Two**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy or Hermione Granger or Ronald Weasley or Ginny Weasley or Hogwarts or … well, you get the point. Don't you?

A/N – I think this is one of my fave chapters so far, and it's the longest one too! Hope you like it. Sorry it took me a bit longer to update but uni's been forcing me to write EVIL essays!

* * *

"What?" Hermione blurted out, suddenly agitated. 

"I didn't say anything," Malfoy raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, looking at her curiously.

"You just said 'join the club'," she replied, hoping that she was right and he had _said_ it. The other possibility she was considering couldn't be true, it just couldn't be.

He was looking at her even more strangely now – almost appraisingly yet wary at the same time.

"Granger, I didn't say a word," he paused, something moving behind his eyes, "I guess that between your natural talent for the magic and the amplification of the ring, it's no wonder _they_ want you. You'd be very useful."

"What do you mean, the 'amplification' of my ring?" Her eyes narrowed but never left his face as she processed his implications.

"Merlin Granger, for a supposed genius you're acting a lot like a blonde airhead!" His tone was irritated, but with an undercurrent of amusement. He was enjoying knowing something she didn't, and was enjoying torturing her with it even more.

"I didn't _say_ a word, but I can't deny thinking it."

With one last glance at the waning moon he turned and made his way back down the staircase, leaving Hermione to her own thoughts.

_So I read his mind? Cool._ She caught herself a second later, _No! Not cool! I can't go round hearing other people's thoughts, I don't want to hear other peoples thoughts. Not only is that a gross invasion of privacy, but what if I hear something I really don't want to?_

* * *

Hermione returned to the common room several hours later, exhausted after watching the sun rising from her vantage point on the tower. 

She meandered her way through the various chairs, footrests, sofas, desks and other pieces of furniture lying around, not noticing that three of the couches she passed were occupied with slumbering figures.

She was almost at the stairs leading to the girls dormitory when her foot caught on a table leg and she went flying, knocking the towering pile of books off the table and landing on her backside on the floor with an almighty racket.

"Ow," she moaned, lying back on the floor, not bothering to pick herself up, not having the energy to do it.

A green-eyed face loomed over her, followed by a face framed with fiery hair, which was also followed by another, softer faced red haired person.

"Morning Hermione," Ginny smiled as Harry reached down a hand to help her up.

She hesitated for a second, looking from his hand to his eyes but she could read no more in them now than she had been able to on the path the day before. Slowly she reached up her own arm and grasped his hand, allowing herself to be pulled to a standing position.

For several long heartbeats no one said a word. Finally Hermione mentally shook herself and resigned herself to doing something she hadn't been looking forward to but knew had to be done.

"Harry, I am so sorry about what I said! I know it's just a word and it doesn't mean much but I _am_ sorry, I was just angry and I wanted to hurt you, I didn't mean it, you know I didn't."

"I know," Harry stopped her ramblings with two little words.

She looked at him in shock as he continued, "it hurt, I'm not going to pretend that it didn't but you did have a point, we don't listen to you enough and I'm sorry. We both are," he gestured to Ron, who nodded at her and gave a small smile, "so we're not going to bug you anymore, I'm just going to say that if you do want to talk to us we'll listen."

Harry and Ron had decided not to tell her what they'd seen, fearing what she would say if she'd found out they had followed her. Ginny had been in the common room when they had returned from the tower (she had muttered something about a nightmare involving her wedding to Snape) and had listened to their explanations and the argument they had regarding what Malfoy could possibly be blackmailing Hermione with and why she was taking it.

Ginny had laughed herself silly when Ron had told her his theory of Hermione being Voldemort's daughter, it was such a stupid idea; Hermione Granger – smarter than most Ravenclaws, more loyal than the Hufflepuffs, with an incredibly strong resolve for sticking to the rules. There was no way she could be the heir.

And so they had veto-ed that idea and spent the early hours of the morning brainstorming for what they could do to help Hermione, who was obviously under a tremendous amount of stress if the way she'd blown up at Harry was any indication, not that they could blame her – being blackmailed by Malfoy could hardly constitute as heaps of fun. Being as nice as possible to her seemed to be the best plan they could come up with.

When Harry had finished his acceptance of her apology, Hermione's eyes filled with tears and she reached out to pull him into a huge hug, feeling better than she had in a long time. After a second he wrapped his arms around her back.

She pulled away with a sob and reached for Ron who didn't hesitate at all in his reciprocation. She held him for longer than she had held Harry, for the first time she gave in to her tears, feeling that here, in this moment, with the two guys she'd been best friends with for so long and the girl who had become almost her sister, she could get through this.

She was Hermione Granger, nothing could change that. And they loved her for it.

* * *

The tearful – on Hermione's part anyway – affair had been cut short by the descent from the bedrooms of hungry students. Though it was Sunday, many pupils still woke early in order to eat, the boys mainly. 

After the hugs Hermione had apologised to Harry and Ron about her mood swings. Ginny, who had spent the week caught up in settling into her sixth year hadn't seen much of Hermione was filled in on everything.

It wasn't until the common room was almost full that the subject of _why_ she'd been acting strangely came up. She took a deep breath and prepared to tell them what she'd been keeping, but before she could say a word Harry grinned and gave her a 'you'll never believe this' look.

"Ron had a very interesting theory on you're behaviour," he gave the blushing redhead a playful punch on the arm.

"Shut it Harry! It was a valid point, we're all paranoid after all."

Hermione shot a questioning look between the two boys, one of whom was grinning widely and the other who was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I just happened to mention…in passing…that there was a possibility that you were Voldemort's heir."

She only had a chance to take a sharp breath, before he continued, "I know it was a stupid thing to say, there is no way _you'd_ be his daughter, I mean, you're too…nice. So don't worry, I'm not accusing you of anything, I don't know why I even thought it anyway, you'd think living with Ginny would clue me in to the fact that sometimes girls get moody because of…" he paused and blushed even more furiously than before, "…well because of other, _girl_ things."

"Don't worry, Hermione, I told him he was being an idiot," cut in Harry, "I've met your mum, I don't think she'd go anywhere near Voldemort, besides I know she's a muggle, so that totally rules you out anyway, seeing as he hates all muggles."

A weak smile was all that Hermione could manage, but she didn't have a chance to say anything before Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper interrupted, to get Harry's urgent opinion on some new Quidditch move they were having trouble with.

Ginny and Ron being part of the team too, they joined in the discussion, leaving Hermione to mull things over.

_Ok, so I didn't tell them about Voldemort being my father, but that doesn't really matter, does it? I'm still Hermione, they don't really need to know who my dad is to know who_ I _am. Just be happy! You've got your friends back, Harry doesn't hate you, and you managed to have a whole conversation with Malfoy without threatening, maiming or hexing him._

Twenty minutes later Hermione found herself being dragged from the common room by all of the seven members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The discussion had turned in to an argument over tactics and impossible moves, which had turned into a full-blown team effort and requests for explanations of certain things, leading to offers of a demonstration, which had in turn led to an impromptu practice.

Hermione had been too busy thinking, mentally listing her homework for the upcoming week (something which always relaxed her), to be able to come up with a believable excuse to get out of 'coming along and offering Harry her moral support in his argument with those two jumped up idiot beaters'. In Ginny's words anyway. Hermione preferred to think of it as sitting out in the cold watching seven students fly around on sticks throwing spheres at each other in different ways when they should be inside studying.

By this time Hermione had been awake for around 24 hours, during which time she'd been subjected to the Cruciatus curse twice, had had a major falling out with one of her best friends, made up with said best friend, found out she could read minds – well, Draco's mind anyway – been told that Draco was being made to spy on her, and had cried. A lot. So she was extremely tired, possibly more exhausted than she could ever remember being.

All she wanted to do was go back into the castle, take a shower and crawl into her nice warm bed and sleep for a week. Her eyes kept closing and her head kept nodding, only to be roused from her doze every couple of minutes when a Bludger went rushing past her or one of the players called out to her to watch them execute a move and see if anything was wrong with it. How could Harry, Ron and Ginny be so awake and energetic? They couldn't have had much more sleep than she'd had.

Eventually she couldn't stand it anymore and was just about to shout to Harry, who was closest, that they were all doing really well but she was going inside, when a large group of people appeared in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

It looked as though the whole of Slytherin house had come to congregate, led by none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Surprisingly, although Hermione wasn't happy about the Slytherins in general being there, she just couldn't muster up the hatred she usually felt towards Malfoy. Shrugging it off as nothing more than sleep deprivation and the experience of having an actual conversation with him that hadn't included the words 'mudblood' or 'ferret', she watched as he shouted up towards where Harry was flying.

Never taking her eyes off the argument Harry and Draco had started, Hermione started to descend from the stands she was sitting in and made her way onto the pitch.

"…Doesn't matter how much practice you get, you're still going to lose to us," Harry was hovering slightly above the pitch, shouting at the blonde who stood clutching his broomstick in front of the group of green-clad crowd.

"You're full of yourself Potter, if you're that confident then get lost and let us practice, you've been out here all morning, don't you have mudbloods to go and protect or something?"

Harry swooped down to land in front of him just as Hermione appeared by his side.

"Harry, don't. He's not worth it," she grabbed his arm as he started walking towards Draco with a livid look on his face.

"Stay out of it Granger," Draco sneered at her, although she could see in his face that he was less comfortable being insulting towards her than he was towards Harry, "you wouldn't want me to _let anything slip_ would you?"

She shot him a venomous look before stepping between he and Harry, who looked even angrier if it was possible, "ok, I have an idea, how about we release the Snitch, Harry and Malfoy go after it and whoever catches it, their team gets to practice?"

It took a lot of glaring, shouting and insults between the two Quidditch teams, not to mention the other Slytherins who had come out to witness an altercation between the two famous enemies, before she got them to agree to her plan.

Of course, her subtle threats towards Malfoy when everyone else was preoccupied with their shouting matches hadn't hurt. It was surprising how someone's attitude could change when you told them you could find out their most embarrassing thoughts and spread them all over the school.

When the furore had died down and the only two people in the air were Harry and Malfoy, staring at each other menacingly, Hermione released the Snitch and watched it zoom up into the air, lost almost immediately to her vision.

_Oh God, I hope they don't end up killing each other or something,_ she mentally groaned, as they each started flying, Harry taking up his usual position high above the pitch where he could see everything, whereas Malfoy flew here and there, keeping an eye on Harry in case he spotted anything.

Several minutes passed, the crowd now sitting in the stands watching the two seekers and watching for the Snitch themselves. Insults and encouragement were shouted in turn, when suddenly Harry went into a dive.

The speed at which he was hurtling towards the earth was terrifying to Hermione, the shouts were becoming louder and louder as Malfoy fell in behind Harry and was urging his broomstick to catch him up, but Hermione could barely hear anything past the blood rushing in her own ears.

At the last possible second before he hit the ground, Harry pulled up, a smug look on his face as he retreated slightly and looked behind him to see Malfoy's fate.

Malfoy had seen him suddenly change direction in time to notice that he was extremely close to the ground. He didn't have a chance to pull up, but he did have a chance to slow down slightly, meaning that when he hit the ground, the crunch was only slightly sickening.

A brief second of confusion passed over the crowd when they took their eyes off Malfoy and his broken nose to realize that Harry's hands were empty.

The Wronski Feint.

The Gryffindors in the audience roared their approval, while Harry just smirked at Malfoy, who glared back with such hatred that Hermione could almost feel it. She didn't need to be able to read his mind to know what that look meant. He was going to make Harry pay.

Before he could do anything, something gold whipped past him and headed upwards. He immediately angled his broomstick upwards and followed it, gaining on it before Harry even realised what was happening.

The shouts from both sides resumed with increased vigour when Harry followed Malfoy, gaining on him with every second until they were so close that they could have reached out and touched.

They had been steadily climbing up, so far that it was difficult, even with the raised stands, for the people left down below to see them.

_This has got to end._ Hermione wasn't shouting along with the rest of the crowd, she was wringing her hands in fear, _Draco's going to try something, I just know it. He won't let that broken nose pass without a fight. They'll end up killing each other._

It was true that by the looks of things, this had turned from a simple playing for the pitch to a grudge match between two enemies, if the look on Malfoy's face had been any indication.

Her anxious worryings were cut short as the red figure in the sky pulled ahead of the green one, only to swerve suddenly, as though the tail of his broomstick had been hit with some force. There was a brief moment where it seemed Harry would regain his bearings and pull ahead of Malfoy once more but the green figure shifted slightly and suddenly Harry was falling.

From several hundred feet in the air, Harry was now dropping through nothingness with an astonishing speed.

Screams filled the stands as the audience watched helplessly.

_He's going to die! I've got to do something, oh my god. Spells, spells, spells…what do I know that will help?_

Ron was shouting at Hermione to do something, but she'd never been any good at thinking under pressure, she'd gotten better since the time in first year with the Philosopher's Stone but it still wasn't her best feature.

Her eyes followed Harry as he hurtled ever closer to the ground and her mind was blank, no spells came to her, no charms she could use, all she could do was watch her friend fall to his death.

_I knew that snake was going to try something! This is all my fault, if I hadn't suggested they play for the pitch…Oh, I need to do something!_

Her jumbled, panicked thoughts were racing at an incredible rate until, almost without realising it, Hermione raised her right hand, palm facing outwards towards Harry. Nobody was watching her, all eyes were on him.

It was the first time she'd actually attempted to use the power of the ring willingly, she could only hope that it would respond to her and do something, _anything_, to save Harry.

She could feel power building up, rushing through her, all of her magical energy and more focusing in her outstretched hand. The world filled with white noise and a breeze unfelt by anyone else shifted her hair, which was almost crackling as the magic surrounding her lifted it.

Pins and needles pricked at her hand until eventually, with no more thought than it took to move a muscle or blink, she released the energy and felt more than saw the magic flowing out of her, to snatch Sloper's broomstick out of his hand and send it tearing out onto the pitch.

A sigh of relief escaped her as it drew below Harry.

A sigh that turned to a scream when the broomstick shifted, undulating and changing, until it became a giant snake, almost as large as the Basilisk.

Before she had a chance to do anything more, the snake opened wide its huge jaws and Harry fell screaming into the depths of its mouth.

* * *

A/N – About Draco and Hermione – I'm just warning you now so that I don't get flamed by people who hate them being anything more than enemies, there WILL be a bit of civil friendship between them but as for romance, well I'm just going to have to see how the story works out. 

BTW, Does anyone actually read my A/N's? I know some people hate them so just let me know what you think of them, cos I can stop writing them if no-one reads them. Of course, if you don't read it then you wouldn't know that I'm asking you if you read it or not…


	11. I Used To Pray To Recover You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 11: I Used To Pray To Recover You**

DISCLAIMER: As if.

A/N – Ok, major apologies for the wait in updating, and just trust me on this one that you don't want to know the reasons for the delay. Anyway, here it is, and it's a long one!

* * *

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed with the rest of the onlookers as the snake closed its jaws, cutting off the sound of Harry's cries.

It didn't move, save to lower its face and turn it's massive eyes towards the crowd, which immediately fell silent.

Hermione doubted that the others could tell it wasn't looking at the crowd in general. She could feel the weight of its gaze upon her skin, those huge empty orbs silently awaiting orders like an obedient house elf.

Draco landed a safe distance from the snake when he realised it wasn't going to move, having watched Harry's fall with a sort of grim resignation plastered on his pale face. He wiped gingerly at the blood still dripping from his burst nose and circled the dangerously beautiful creature warily.

When the beast did nothing to him, several of the Gryffindors in the stands cautiously descended to the pitch, each going as slowly as possible, not wanting to be the first.

Hermione and Ron led the way, Ron giving the creature a wide berth and heading straight for Malfoy, his shouting at the bloodied boy clear even over the growing number of people gathering on the pitch, hurriedly discussing what the hell had just happened.

Meanwhile Hermione was cautiously approaching the snake. She barely heard the chatter around her or Ron and Malfoy's shouting match, her heart was beating so hard in her chest that it overpowered everything. She reached out a shaking hand, the movement followed by the great eyes of the shining monster.

She jumped slightly when her fingers connected with the shimmering deep green scales and slowly she stroked them. If someone had asked her what she was doing, she wouldn't have been able to tell them. It was a giant snake that had just swallowed one of her best friends, the boy-who-lived no less, yet here she was caressing it with awe and reverence, the feeling of connection she had with this…thing was almost overwhelming. She knew unequivocally that it wouldn't hurt her, she had nothing to fear from it. Just as she knew that she was the reason it was here and she was the only one who could send it back where it had come from.

But first she had to get Harry back. The interesting thing about snakes is that they don't chew their food, they just swallow it. Whole. So there was a very good chance he was still alive in there.

No-one had noticed her standing with the motionless snake, they were all too concerned with Ron's screams to Malfoy about how he'd just killed his best friend, and Malfoy's attempts to defend himself, somewhat hindered by his broken nose.

She couldn't believe this. Harry could be dead or dying right that second and all Ron and the rest of the present Gryffindors could do was shout and assign blame. Each side was now clamouring along with their respective housemate, blaming and defending each other until Hermione couldn't take it anymore.

"ENOUGH!" She roared over the insults being thrown.

A shocked silence fell and she tentatively stepped away from the snake as everyone turned to stare at her. Even with a couple more feet between them, she could still feel the snake right there with her, awaiting her orders, it was making her jumpy and extremely freaked out, why was she feeling such an affinity for this animal?

"You're all too busy screaming at each other to realise that Harry might not even be dead yet. I know Slytherins aren't exactly known for their brains," a deep rumble ran through half the crowd, she just ignored it and continued, "but I would have thought they'd know something about the animal they have as a symbol for their house. _Snakes don't chew_. Harry could still be alive in there. For now anyway, but the longer we stand here bickering like five year olds, the more chance there is of him dying."

Everyone looked at each other for a few moments before a buzz started, Gryffindors were approaching the silent snake in order to examine it and swap ideas of how to get him out. The Slytherins, meanwhile, merely stood off to one side, watching in a bored manner, occasionally phrases like "why can't we just leave him in there, exactly?" or, "how about we feed it Longbottom and see if it throws them back up?" drifted across to the Gryffindors, who merely sent dirty looks their way. Draco just watched it all with a scowl on his pale face, while no-one was paying any attention, he grabbed Pansy's wand from her hand as she attempted to hex Dean Thomas just for the hell of it and performed a healing charm on himself with the bored air of someone who did it regularly.

Hermione stood listening to the various conversations but not joining in. Though she noticed Draco's practiced ease when he healed himself she just couldn't muster up any curiosity. There was only one thing going on in her head; she was beginning to form an idea within her mind to rescue Harry, but the repercussions of her attempt would be impossible to predict.

Her affinity with the animal, who her father was, the fact that she had actually conjured the snake in the first place…. All these things whirled in her head and she took a quick look around to see no one paying her any attention, as usual she had faded into the background once her knowledge had been passed on.

She opened her mouth and quietly addressed the snake.

"Is he still alive?" Though her thoughts were English, she heard a low hiss escape her lips in place of the familiar words she felt she spoke.

It stared at her imperiously for a heartbeat before inclining its head almost imperceptibly. She watched it's long tongue flicker out to taste the air and a hiss that sounded suspiciously like _yeeessssss_ reached her ears.

Others had noticed the snakes tiny movement and took hesitant steps back from it, still trying to think of ways to help Harry, still ignoring Hermione.

"Let him go. Now. And you can leave." She had a brief moment to wonder about her sanity. Here she was ordering around a giant snake who could kill her as easy as blinking, and she was speaking parseltongue, something which, before Harry had came along, was only ever found in the darkest of wizards, in front of a huge crowd of people. But those empty eyes just gazed at her for another second before the snake lowered its head in what was, unmistakably, a bow of assent.

This movement was nowhere near as subtle as the first and the head kept descending lower and lower, students scattering from below it until it laid its head on the ground and opened wide once more.

The long tongue flicked once more and, as though he was pushed, Harry stumbled out into the light, blinking his bleary eyes.

Once he was free of the snake he collapsed to the floor and vomited, the Gryffindors, led by Ron, surrounded him and Kirke and Sloper were dispatched to the hospital wing to bring Madam Pomfrey. All attention was on Harry as Hermione turned back to the snake and hissed a single word.

"Go."

The air around the creature shimmered like heat from a road, and it writhed and rippled, shrinking all the time until eventually it was just a plain, harmless Cleansweep 8 once more.

Hermione heaved a huge sigh. She couldn't believe it. She could not believe what had happened. She had transfigured a giant snake out of a broomstick, which had eaten Harry, and she had then spoken Parseltongue to it and saved him. And no one had seen her do anything. She had gotten away with it. No one would suspect her.

A burst of rebellious adrenaline filled her and she smirked.

Until an utterly arrogant, silky voice sounded behind her.

"Nice party trick, Granger."

* * *

The Golden Trio and Ginny were gathered in the bright white hospital wing, Harry in his usual bed, which Madam Pomfrey insisted was reserved specially for him, Ron and Ginny sat in chairs on either side while Hermione was curled up on the end of his bed.

It was only an hour since Harry had been spat out of the snakes' mouth and Madam Pomfrey had appeared. Despite his protestations, she had practically dragged Harry back up to the castle, muttering something about looking up the acidity of a snakes innards.

Hermione had shot Malfoy a look as she walked away that clearly said she would deal with him later.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Tonks were away from the castle, on 'urgent business,' which was widely regarded as being something to do with the Order and/or Voldemort.

Once Madam Pomfrey had ceased her fussing over Harry, merely telling him that he had to stay in the hospital wing that night in case of any adverse effects, she had left them to their speculations.

"'Adverse effects'?" Harry scoffed, "I've just been swallowed by a big bloody snake, who wouldn't have 'adverse effects'?"

While the other two laughed, Ginny merely managed a small smile, which didn't last long.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked her, noticing how pale she was for the first time.

"Nothing," she replied, too quickly, "I'm fine, it's just been a long day that's all."

"You're not fooling us Ginny," Hermione cut in, "you can tell us what's wrong. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than snake breath over there," she smiled and indicated towards Harry who immediately plastered a wounded look on his face.

"Hey, that hurt! It's not like I asked the snake to eat me," he grimaced slightly, "besides, it was … icky in there."

"Icky?" Hermione had to laugh, "Harry you sound like a little girl!"

"I do not!" He grabbed the spare pillow out of Hermione's hands, which she'd picked up from the end of the bed when she'd sat down and whacked her around the head with it.

"Oy!" She admonished him, grabbing the end of the pillow as he swung it towards her again and produced a scarily accurate mimic of Lavender, "don't you dare mess up my hair Harry Potter, or I'll make you pay!"

"Guys!" Ron grabbed the pillow from the both of them and tossed it to the floor by the side of the bed before looking at them pointedly, "Ginny?"

"Woops, sorry Ginny," Harry and Hermione at least had the good grace to look relatively sheepish, "just got carried away there for a minute. So what's wrong?"

"You couldn't just let them change the subject could you Ron?" Ginny shot her brother a dirty look and sighed, "it's just that this whole thing is reminding me of my first year all over again," she looked around at the now solemn faces of her friends and her brother.

"I mean, you lot in danger from the heir of a dark wizard, it just seems a bit too close for comfort," a haunted shadow passed briefly over her face as her memories overcame her, almost before it appeared it was gone again, but not before giving Hermione a profound sense of guilt that it was _her_ fault her best friend was dredging up things best left forgotten,

"Still," Ginny visibly shook herself, "it's not like that time, we're all older and wiser, and I can remember pretty much what I've done over the past few weeks, so at least it's not me!" Her attempt at humour was a weak one but everyone laughed anyway, desperate for something to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, it's not you Ginny," Hermione said quietly, her voice strained, "anyway, how do we even know that this heir is trying to hurt people? That thing with Harry could have been one of the Slytherins messing about, or, if it was the heir, they might have made the snake appear accidentally," she knew she was fighting a losing battle trying to get Harry and Ron to see the heir as anything other than the continuation of a bloodline whose members had all been evil, but she still wouldn't give up hope that they would see that not everything was governed by the blood that ran through a persons veins.

"I think it's Malfoy." Ron cut in suddenly.

The other three turned to stare at him and he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze.

"Why?" Hermione asked simply, her strange fellowship with Malfoy had piqued her interest in the Slytherin she once knew only as Harry's complete opposite in everything, and though she knew that it was a matter of course for Ron to point the finger at the blonde when anything happened, she wondered about the reasoning behind this particular conclusion.

Ron shifted closer to the bed, glancing round the large deserted room in a conspiratorial manner, which caused the other three to also huddle closer.

"Well," he began, voice low, "first of all: his parents are really high up in you-kno…Voldermort's inner circle, and apparently they rose through the ranks really quickly. He never trusts anyone but Malfoy's dad is his second in command, higher than some Death Eaters who've followed Voldemort since he was at school. And, even though he denied being a Death Eater when Voldemort fell, he hasn't been punished as badly as all the others, he broke out of Azkaban but the rest of them were left there, he must have had help. Maybe the Malfoy's did something for Voldemort. Maybe they let him have Draco to be his heir."

Ron was warming now, his speech becoming faster as he grew more certain and excited by what he was saying. He stood from his seat and started pacing beside the bed, looking intently at the others as he continued speaking.

"It all fits, Malfoy's a Slytherin, his family is one of the oldest and most powerful in the wizarding world, they're all neck deep in the Dark Arts, he hates Harry, can't stand Muggles or Muggle-borns, Lucius Malfoy would see it as a great honour to let Voldemort and Narcissa…" he hesitated and his ears turned red, "well, you know. Anyway, there's also the fact that Malfoy tried to kill Harry today."

He stopped his pacing and turned to look at them triumphantly.

"Actually," Harry sounded apprehensive, as though he couldn't really believe what he was about to say, "Malfoy didn't _technically_ try to kill me."

Feeling extremely exhausted and thinking that she couldn't take much more of this endless theorizing, Hermione closed her eyes in exasperation and intoned, "what do you mean?"

"When we were flying, I got really close to the snitch but he grabbed the end of my broomstick and pulled it really hard, so I swerved. I tried to right myself but I lost my grip. Malfoy heard me, um, scream," he coloured as his friends tried not to smile at the image of the infallible Harry Potter screaming, "he turned round and saw me slipping. The snitch was right next to him, he could have easily grabbed it, but he kind of turned to try to get me instead, stop me from falling. It didn't work, obviously, but he did try to help me."

A shocked silence followed his revelation as they tried to imagine a Draco Malfoy who would try to save Harry Potter's life.

"But what about the snake?" Ginny's voice was small, "maybe he wasn't trying to help you, maybe he was making sure you fell into it's mouth. If he _is_ Voldemort's heir, then he might be a Parseltongue and could control it to appear and swallow you."

"Why did it spit me back out though?"

"I don't know, but it would explain something that's been bothering me," Ron looked thoughtful, as though remembering something he'd half forgotten, "just before it spit you out, I thought I heard something really weird. I didn't really think much about it because there was loads of people around and they were all chattering, I was standing in the middle of it all, close to Hermione. Malfoy and a bunch of other Slytherins were behind us and I just thought I was hearing things.

"I think I heard someone speaking Parseltongue."

* * *

Hermione eventually got to bed close to midnight that night, her head whirling with so many thoughts that none of them even made sense any more. Ron thought he had heard someone speaking Parseltongue, but because of his inability to understand it, he couldn't tell whether the voice was male or female, or how close it was to him or anything else to suggest an identity for the speaker. Hermione silently thanked the Slytherins for standing behind her and Ron, as it had been ultimately decided by the group that the heir of Voldemort was a Slytherin.

Despite her extremely full head, she fell asleep immediately, falling into the blissful darkness of a dreamless slumber.

She didn't wake again until lunchtime. A brief moment of panic overtook her as she looked around the empty bedroom, _oh God, I can't believe I slept till lunchtime, I am going to get into so much trouble for missing my classes!_ She leapt out of bed and threw on her uniform, she grabbed her schoolbag and ran down the staircase leading to the common room. She was moving so fast that she almost ran into Ginny at the bottom of the stairs.

"I was just coming to get you," the redhead said cheerfully, once Hermione had righted herself, "lunchtime's just started so I thought it was probably a good idea to wake you up."

"Ginny, why are you smiling?" Hermione almost shrieked, "I've just missed all my morning classes! I could kill Lavender and Parvati, how could they just let me sleep?"

Ginny grabbed Hermione's shoulders gently and stared the almost panicky girl in the eyes, "Hermione, what classes did you have this morning?"

Without needing to refer to her timetable, Hermione rattled off; "Double Potions then Transfiguration. Snape's going to kill me, and McGonagall…Oh!" The reason for Ginny's complacency hit her, "they're not back yet?"

At Ginny's smile of assent, Hermione visibly relaxed. "Thank Merlin! I can't believe I slept so long."

The two girls made their way to the Great Hall speculating on the reason for the teachers' absence. The night before, they had been too worried about Harry to wonder much about the teachers, but the fact that they weren't back to teach their classes that morning meant that they were doing something _very_ important.

Hermione's eyes swept the hall as they entered, a normal habit of hers. However she noticed something odd.

"Where's Malfoy?" She asked as they slipped onto the benches beside Harry and Ron, who each gave a cursory glance towards the Slytherin table and shrugged.

"Still in bed, maybe, he'll probably be in classes later, unfortunately," Ron managed around a mouthful of sandwiches.

However Malfoy didn't turn up for his classes later that day, nor did he turn up for dinner, by which time the Professors had returned. Hermione didn't see him the next day either, and by Wednesday, the third day of his absence, she was getting even more curious about his whereabouts.

On Wednesday evenings Hermione was to be found patrolling the hallways, part of her prefect duties. These patrols were supposed to be done in pairs, however Ernie MacMillan, the Hufflepuff prefect she was paired with for this particular task was in the Hospital wing with a nasty bite off a Venomous Tentacula.

She was lost in thought as her legs made their way of their own accord through the corridors she had patrolled every few nights since she became a prefect, thoughts of snakes and Parseltongue, family and friends, fear and pain, filled her mind, until she turned a corner and everything flew out of her head at the sight before her eyes.

There lay what was unmistakeably Draco Malfoy, the blonde hair shining in the moonlight flooding through a nearby window, though his face was covered in blood so dark that looked almost black in the half-light, and his clothes were ripped and muddied.

"Malfoy?" She approached him quickly but cautiously, "Malfoy can you hear me?" She knelt beside him and reached out her hand to grasp his shoulder.

At her touch he stirred, jerking away from her and raising haunted eyes to her face.

"What happened?" She asked breathlessly, the sight of his scratched and bruised face frightening her.

"Granger?" His voice was hoarse, "Granger, I need help."

A/N - the next update will take nowhere near as long as this one did, I promise! Please review.


	12. A Love Of The Rack And The Screw

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 12: A Love Of The Rack And The Screw**

DISCLAIMER: Ok, read the chapter and then tell me that I really need to write a disclaimer saying that I'm not JKR and I didn't write the Harry Potter books, and therefore don't own anything you recognise. It will be painfully obvious from the first sentence that I didn't write the books.

A/N – I had fun with an online thesaurus I found, so I can't take credit for about 50 of the words used hereafter. (Actually, I knew that one anyway :-))

Quick review thingy: Don't worry Lizard Demon From Pluto, I am CandyCane, unfortunately that name was taken on this site :( so I'm Madness Hamster instead. My muse has buggered off at the mo, leaving me in the midst of writers block but I'm trying!

* * *

No sooner had the words left his lips than Draco's body went limp, slumping forwards onto her, his eyes closing, blocking from her view the pain filled grey gaze.

"Malfoy?" Hermione shook his shoulder gently, "Malfoy, wake up!" Her voice was slowly rising in a panic.

She shook him slightly harder. When he didn't respond, she looked up, casting her eyes over the empty corridor, as though someone would miraculously appear and tell her what to do.

_Ok,_ she thought when no one turned up, _I have to get him to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey will know what to do._

She shifted him slightly so that she could get to her feet but the instant she gently pushed on his chest to move him, his eyes flew open and he screamed so piercing and so long that it actually scared her.

"Malfoy!" Hermione shouted over his continuous unearthly wails, "Stop screaming!" He didn't register her words, and she had the feeling he wasn't aware of her presence.

Hesitantly she placed her hand back on his shoulder, grasping him gently once more. At her touch he quieted, his screams replaced by what she could only describe as soft whimpers.

Hearing Draco Malfoy whimpering was almost as disturbing as hearing him screaming.

"You have to tell me what happened, Malfoy," she touched his face, moving it up so she could search his eyes.

For the first time she got a clear look at the scratches and bruises that marred his usual pale perfection. The blood that had dried into flaky patches on his skin mingled with streaks of dirt.

She stared straight into his eyes but she knew he didn't see her. It was as though he was watching something else, something internal, and for a brief second she was glad she couldn't see what was haunting him so.

"I need you to help me, Malfoy." She had to strive to keep her voice as calm as possible, "I can't move you if you're going to scream every time I touch you. I can't stun you because you're to heavy to carry and I don't know if knocking you out would be the best thing to do anyway. So you have to stand up and lean on me. Can you do that? Please?"

His eyes focused on her briefly and she saw some hint of recognition flash within them.

The whimpering stopped. Draco opened his mouth as though to speak, never taking his eyes off hers.

She waited for him to say something but he just closed his mouth again and stared at her, pleading with empty eyes.

"Say something." Silence met her request. "Please say something, Malfoy."

"Don't call me that." His voice was low and even, but harsh nonetheless.

Hermione was taken aback by the vehemence in his tone, but at least he'd said something. It was a start.

"Ok, but you really need to tell me what happened? Who did this to you? _What_ did they do?"

"I couldn't do it. He wanted me to. He wanted it so bad but I couldn't. I won't. Not for him, not for them. He can't have me. I'm a disgrace to the name but I won't let him take me."

Malfoy's eyes had closed when the first word escaped him, his voice so soft and weak, but determined and strangely proud. Hermione couldn't make much sense of what he had said, but she knew the likelihood of getting anything more from him while he was in this shocked state was slim to none. Nor would she be able to move him if the way he was clutching his ribs was any indication.

For a second all she could do was stare at him, his eyes still closed, face slack.

"I'm going to go get someone, someone to help you. I'll be really quick, I promise."

She made to stand up but his eyes flew open and he reached out to her, "Don't go! You can't leave me here, what if he comes back? It's not safe." The raw panic in his voice as he gripped her arm was impossible to ignore.

With a last fruitless glance around the deserted corridor she made up her mind to do something which she never would have even considered before the snake incident.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, not quite knowing what she was apologising for,

She raised his head until she could see his eyes clearly. Although Hermione wasn't sure how exactly it was supposed to work, she just trusted her instincts and stared into his eyes, but instead of just looking _at_ his eyes, she attempted to look _through_ them. For a couple of seconds nothing happened and she was on the verge of giving up, then:

_Cold steel encircled her wrists. Dark figures stood motionless, black hoods hiding everything but the malevolent glint of their eyes. A dank room lit by one dim light, focused on her. And from the darkness came a cold voice. "Crucio."_

Hermione jerked back, breaking her contact with Malfoy, her mind reeling from the fragmented images, chest rising and falling rapidly as she took harsh breaths, unnoticed tears slipping from her eyes at what she'd just witnessed, what she'd just _experienced_.

"Oh God," she breathed. Though every sane part of her mind screamed at her not to do it she leaned towards the silent, motionless boy once more, and peered into him.

This time she was prepared for the pictures that flooded her mind.

_Echoing screams shattered the cold depths of the room and only when the pain stopped did she realise they were hers. _

"Finally," came the cold voice once more, "at last you scream." She clenched her jaw so the moans rising within her couldn't escape. "Seven hours. It took you seven hours to break enough to scream. That alone would be worthy of the name Malfoy. However, you refused a direct order from your lord and master, and that is unforgivable. I am ashamed to call you my son."

She raised her weary head, muscles aching and protesting with every inch until she stared into the cold, dead eyes of Lucius. Gathering what little strength she had left she spat out the words she'd dreamed of saying since she was little.

"I am ashamed to call you my father."

This time she screamed from the beginning, only one conscious thought in her head.

'Granger.'

Someone was calling a name. Hermione. Who was Hermione?

She felt a grip on her arm and her eyes flashed open to see Malfoy's bloodied face, so close it filled her vision.

"Oh God," she moaned, "oh God, oh God."

"Hermione." Malfoy was talking to her and she struggled to focus on his words rather than the images that were replaying in her mind.

"What did you do to me?" He asked, voice tight, expression closed and controlled.

It took a moment for his question to register, and another minute until she was able to respond.

"I read your mind, oh God, I'm sorry, I read your mind," she gasped out her words through racking sobs.

"Hermione, you were _in_ my mind, I felt you in there."

"No, that's impossible," every breath was a harsh struggle.

"I know exactly what you've just seen in my head because I was in there with you. Everything you felt and saw was what I felt and saw when he was doing it to me." Malfoy looked away, almost seeming ashamed of what she'd seen.

"Why…" Hermione tried to speak, to ask the questions that were burning but she couldn't force speech past her agonizing breathing.

Her laboured breaths were loud in the silence of the corridor and Malfoy looked back to see her slumped on the floor, trying so hard just to breathe.

"Hermione, you're in shock, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths, just try to stay calm." He lifted her to a sitting position and looked into her eyes, willing her to slow her breathing.

"You stay calm!" She managed to choke out before succumbing to the threatening darkness, still feeling his arms around her.

* * *

The first thing Hermione became aware of was a soft crackling. For a second she wondered what it was, unwilling to open her eyes and wake up properly. A soft footstep pulled her from her drowsing state. That didn't fit. Who was in her room?

Her eyes slowly opened. Right in front of her was a large roaring fire. Gingerly she sat up, not recognising the sofa she'd been laid on.

"Good. You're awake," she whirled around at the silky voice.

"Where are we?" She asked Draco.

He placed the book he held back on the bookcase he stood beside and came towards her.

"Room of requirement. You passed out, I couldn't just leave you in the corridor, questions would be asked. I couldn't take you to my room because we'd have had to go through a common room full of Slytherins. And in the event that I actually managed to find the Gryffindor common room, I probably would have been lynched if I turned up in the middle of the night carrying their precious mudblood practically comatose."

Hermione didn't even comment on his use of the term 'mudblood', she was too busy sifting through her memories of the last few moments in the corridor.

She looked up at Draco as he stood in front of her, back to the fire. She couldn't help the horror that filled her eyes as she relived what this person had gone through. Less than half a day ago he'd been tied up and tortured. Now here he stood before her, the firelight framing him, face in shadow, blonde hair almost red from the fiery glow. Sometime while she'd been unconscious he'd cleaned himself up, washed off the blood, fixed his clothes as best he could and healed the scratches on his face.

He looked just like he did any other day, and it made her wonder how many times this had happened. How many times he'd disappeared then reappeared, acting as though nothing had happened.

He saw her watching him, noting the emotion in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that." He sounded disgusted.

"How can I not? I'm sorry I looked at your memories, but Draco I didn't know what else to do. I was scared, you were lying in a heap on the floor, what was I supposed to do?"

You should have just left me there or dumped me outside the Slytherin dungeon or something. I would have been fine."

"You wouldn't let me leave you when I wanted to go get someone, and besides I couldn't just leave someone lying on a floor when they're obviously hurt."

He moved from his place in front of the fire and sat down on the couch beside her.

"Even someone who's trying like hell to find out all your dirty little secrets and use them for his own ends?"

She examined his face, unable to determine whether he was joking or deadly serious.

"Yes, because based on what I just saw I've got a pretty good idea of what those ends will be."

He frowned at her then stood and moved round the sofa, giving her his back. "What you saw has nothing to do with anything. It's been apparent for years to everyone that my Dad's not going to win any 'Father of the Year' contests. You don't need to worry about it. It's nothing."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, "Your father tied you up and tortured you practically non-stop for three days! How can you tell me it's nothing? I thought my father was bad…"

He turned round, surprise and annoyance vying on his features, "_your_ father? What can a muggle do to you that's as bad as the continuous excruciating pain of the Cruciatus curse? He's just a muggle, he can't be that bad."

_Whoops, slip of the tongue,_ Hermione had spent so long thinking about the fact that Voldemort was her father that it now seemed almost natural to her.

Fighting down the nausea that swelled within her at this thought, she resolved to think about that later and focus on the immediate problem: Draco.

Shrugging noncommittally, she continued with her argument, "anyway, you asked me for my help."

"I was in shock! You can't seriously believe that I would ask for help from the Gryffindor Princess when I was in my right state of mind?" The tightness of his voice betrayed his calm demeanour.

"When you were being tortured, you thought of me. You wanted me to help you then too, Draco. Tell me how you wanted me to help."

"Stop calling me Draco."

"You told me not to call you Malfoy."

"So I've changed my mind. Call me Malfoy. Or better yet, don't speak to me at all." He strode towards the door.

"Nice change of subject, _Draco_, but I still want to know how you wanted me to help you."

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob but didn't turn around. "Granger, stop asking me these questions. My nerves are on edge tonight and if you keep asking me things, I'm going to crack and tell you the truth, things you don't want to hear. You think those memories you took from me are the worst you've ever seen? You don't know how bad it really is." His voice simmered with barely suppressed emotion.

"You know I'm going to keep asking so you might as well just give in and tell me." She stood, preparing herself to follow him if he actually left the room.

Instead he lowered his head until his forehead was resting on the dark wood of the door. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"I want to know why they were doing that to you…"

"Because of you!" She hadn't even managed to finish her sentence before he'd spun round to face her, eyes burning with the answers she wanted. Her questions died on her lips at the force in his voice.

"I told you that I've been ordered to watch you. What I didn't tell you was that I was ordered to turn you evil, by any means possible. I was told that the process had already begun and that all I had to do was speed it along. They had a plan all worked out, all I had to do was put it into action."

Her mouth was dry as she stared at him. "What were you supposed to do?" She whispered from cracked lips.

"Kill Potter or Weasley."

"What?" Of all the things he could have told her – that he was supposed to seduce her, or threaten her or any such thing – this was not something she would have imagined him saying.

"How was that supposed to turn me evil?" She was honestly confused.

"You've never felt the need for revenge before have you? Never felt the burning inside you, the hatred, not thinking of the consequences, just willing to do anything to stop the pain, destroy the cause of it. Just let loose all your power and feel some measure of peace at killing the thing that hurt you so bad."

The reverence in his face was scaring her and she couldn't speak, just watch him carefully.

A long minute passed before he moved. "I was supposed to make you want revenge because of the death of one of your best friends, but when I bottled out of killing Potter on the Quidditch pitch I was punished. The Dark Lord does not like to be disobeyed."

She put her head in her hands. So much was happening, so much was going wrong just because of her. She had been responsible, however indirectly, for what had happened to Draco, and as much as she'd hated him for the past seven years, the thought of someone enduring so much pain for her was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry," she managed thickly past the tears that threatened her.

"Don't cry Granger," she didn't need to look at him to feel his discomfort, "I didn't refuse to do it because of you. No matter what all you little Gryffindors seem to think, I don't particularly want to be a Death Eater."

She raised her head in surprise, wiping absently at the fresh tears on her cheeks. He still stood beside the door, not looking at her.

"All that bowing and worshiping to a creature who couldn't even wipe his own arse a couple of years ago. Maybe my father is content to sully himself with the half-blood but I don't debase myself for anyone." He spoke with such abhorrence that Hermione was taken aback.

"You know he's not a pureblood?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her tone.

He finally turned to face her, the loathing in his voice reflected in his face, "it's not really that difficult to find out. Although, most of the Death Eaters are inferior to trolls when it comes to intelligence, my father being one of the few exceptions. But he would rather follow Voldemort and get to have his fun killing muggles and muggle-borns than listen to reason."

Hermione hesitated in asking her next question, but the uncertainty was killing her, she needed to know for sure what Draco knew about her.

"Do you know _why_ he wanted you to turn me evil?"

Her heart stopped as he stared at her, hoping against hope that he wouldn't utter the words she was dreading. The thought that he'd found out her secret hung in the air, making it hard for her to breathe.

Eventually he answered her, his features betraying the fact that he knew there was more behind her question than simple curiosity.

"No."

She sighed in relief, her heart beating once more, breath coming in a rush, he wasn't finished though, "but I'm betting it's got something to do with that ring of yours."

"I'm not telling you anything about the ring," she covered it with her hand as his gaze slipped down to rest on the band.

"Merlins sake Granger! I've just spilled all my secrets to you and you can't even fill me in about that stupid bloody ring!" His agitation was obvious and Hermione took an unwilling step back as he moved towards her.

"What does it matter to you then if it's just a 'stupid bloody ring'?" She tried to stop the tremble in her words as he came ever closer.

"It matters because I know the power it holds and I'm counting on that power to keep me alive." He was so close she could see his eyes tighten as he spilled yet another of his secrets to her unwittingly.

"I don't understand?" That wasn't true, she had an idea of what he was saying, she just didn't want it to be true.

"The 'help' I wanted from you. I don't want to be a Death Eater, and that trinket of yours ensures I don't have to be."

He was too close to her, she could feel the heat from his body as she started backing up towards the bookcase he'd stood beside earlier.

"Trust me, if I could take it off I'd give it to you in a heartbeat but it's stuck, so just forget about it and leave me alone."

She tried to shove past him and leave but he grabbed her wrist. Remembering the night on the astronomy tower she just looked at his hand and then back up to his eyes, but he didn't let go.

"If it was just the ring I would have found a way to take it by now, believe me. But the ring alone isn't enough, it responds to something inside you, something inherent, it's bound to you for some impossible reason and you're the only one who can tap into its full power."

Hermione continued to stare him in the eyes, seeing that what he was saying went against everything that had been ingrained in him since he was born. Here he was, a Malfoy, asking for help from a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor whom he thought was a mudblood. It was almost poetic justice – even more so when she reflected on the fact that what he was asking her to protect him from was her own father.

Her eyes lowered, and he let her shake off his hand.

"I won't use the ring, I _can't_ use the ring. If you want help go to Dumbledore. I'm sorry you were hurt because of me, but there's nothing I can do about it."

He reached for her again as she swept out of the room, her head down eyes on the floor, not glancing at him, but some force pushed away his hand when it got close to her and she reached the doorway without further incident. As soon as the door was closed behind her she raised her head and broke into a run. She needed to get as far away from Malfoy as possible before she cracked and promised him her help.

As she crawled into her bed, she shivered though the fire was still merrily burning.

The flicker of helplessness in his eyes as he asked her to help him played over and over behind her eyes and she felt heartless at the remembrance of her refusal.

But until she knew what the ring could do, the thought of using it again terrified her. She'd tried to save Harry's life and ended up almost killing him anyway. She couldn't take the chance that something would happen and the ring would lose control, that _she_ would lose control.

It was with these uneasy thoughts that Hermione slipped into a troubled sleep, filled with images of silver shackles and cherry-red blood, overplayed by a cold laughter.

A/N – Sorry it's very dialogue heavy, and I had originally planned to have much more in this chapter but this seemed a logical place to split it, or the chapter would have been REALLY long.

Anyway, here comes the predictable part, all together now on the count of 3:  
1;  
2;  
3;  
"PLEASE REVIEW!" Thanks :-)  
Jen xxx


	13. Not Very Pure Or True

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 13: Not Very Pure Or True**

DISCLAIMER: Not. Mine.

A/N - Just a warning – Though there's nothing _really_ bad in this chapter, it's the darkest one yet, in my opinion anyway. So don't say I didn't warn you.

Hermione stumbled into the Great Hall that morning, feeling worse than she had when she'd gone to bed. All night she'd tossed and turned, waking over and over again in a sweat at the sound of cruel laughter and the smell of burning flesh.

"Are you ok?" Ginny steadied her as she walked right into the younger witch and almost lost her balance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Hermione replied, knowing that one look at her would prove to anyone that she was _not_ fine, "I just didn't sleep very well, that's all."

Ginny didn't look convinced but she didn't say anything more, choosing instead to just follow Hermione towards the Gryffindor table, where Harry and Ron were already sat.

Hermione sat beside the boys, ignoring the various breakfast dishes on offer until Ginny nudged her arm and frowned at her.

"Not hungry?"

"Not really, I don't feel too good,"

"C'mon Hermione," Ron cajoled, looking up from his own breakfast, "you've got to eat something, you need your strength for the day, we've got double Potions first thing this morning."

Hermione took a piece of toast, more to appease her friends than because of actual hunger, she nibbled it slowly while the others, apparently satisfied that Hermione was now ok, went back to their own breakfasts and discussion about an extremely important Quidditch match.

Ignoring the conversation flowing around her, she instead focused on the Slytherin table, where a large eagle owl had just landed in front of a scowling Draco.

She watched as he carefully removed the letter, giving the bird a small pat before it flew away. His frown deepened as he opened the envelope and slowly shifted his eyes along the lines. Looking almost angry he lifted those piercing grey eyes to meet her gaze.

She flushed as he caught her staring at him, dropping her own eyes in embarrassment. She kept them glued to her plate with its half eaten piece of toast but she could still feel his gaze on her.

A sigh escaped her. She was so tired of this, Malfoy wanting something from her, not being able to talk to her friends anymore for shame of who she was, causing people pain, nightmares haunting her. She longed for the simplicity of her past years at Hogwarts when her biggest worries were homework and keeping Harry and Ron alive and out of trouble.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, his concern obvious as he took in properly for the first time her dishevelled appearance.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Really." She managed a weak smile. "Just thinking about homework."

"Hermione, we don't have any homework for today," Ron looked aghast that she was thinking about it when she didn't need to, "all we've got is that potions stuff for tomorrow but you've probably done that already."

Hermione paled. She hadn't done her homework yet.

"Uh… I've got to go get something, I'll see you in potions?" She gathered up her bag and swept out of the hall before her friends could say a word, leaving them gaping after her.

She hurried down the corridor, _I can't believe I forgot about my homework! Right, I have twenty minutes before class starts, so I can spend 10 minutes on that essay right now then I'll do the rest of it at lunch_, she was so preoccupied that she didn't see Crabbe until she almost walked into him.

"Sorry," she muttered, more due to ingrained manners than any actual concern, and moved to the side to pass him. Only to find Goyle standing right next to him. Both of them together took up almost the whole width of the corridor.

"Excuse me," she said and attempted to keep walking, but they didn't move, instead just stood and looked at her while she tried to get through the middle of them.

"Could you move out of my way please? I have things to do." Her temper grew shorter and her tone harsher as the two oafs in front of her looked at each other and grinned stupidly before grabbing her – one on each of her arms – and pulling her down the empty corridor towards an alcove.

"Hey, get off me!" It took her weary mind a few seconds to register what was happening, and by that time they had shoved her into the dark alcove, slamming her back against the wall.

They moved back, still grinning those inane grins, but before she could move Malfoy was in front of her.

"What the hell is going on?" She spat angrily, pushing him out of her way, only to be thrown back against the wall once more, this time held there by Malfoy's fierce grip on her shoulder. Belatedly she reached for her wand, only to find it pointed at her throat by Draco.

"Shut up, Granger." He sneered at her, all trace of the victim from last night lost once more as the spoiled little rich boy reappeared. "I've tried asking you nicely and I still haven't gotten what I wanted off you. I've even threatened you. You're such a stubborn little mudblood. So now I've decided that it's time for me to actually _do_ something, instead of just going around whining about it, like Scar-head."

Panic rose up within her, right that moment she wasn't the brightest witch of her age, she wasn't the wielder of one of the most powerful artefacts in the wizarding world, she was just a slightly short seventeen year old girl trapped in a corner by a tall, muscular young man and his two beefy cronies.

"I'm still not going to join Voldemort." She hated hearing the waver in her voice as she tried to sound unafraid.

He smirked at her fear, "Granger, I really don't care whether or not you join the Dark Lord, this is about me. You seem to respond when you're backed into a corner, so here it is. I'm even going to give you a final choice. Help me, or I'll curse you so badly you can't even scream, and then I'll let Crabbe and Goyle have a go."

A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and snaked its way down her face as she looked at him and saw that he meant what he was saying.

"Draco, don't do this. You don't want to be like this, you said it yourself last night," she had given up trying to make her voice strong.

"Granger, if I have to ask you one more time not to call me Draco, I will have the name Malfoy branded into your skin. Last night I told you I didn't want to be a Death Eater, I said nothing about not wanting power. I am like this, it's too late now. I tried being the good little boy, but let's face it, this is so much more fun."

"I won't help you."

She flinched as he leaned closer to her, his body a warm line against hers, his face so close, and lowered his voice, "well in that case, I'm afraid I might have to let slip that Potter isn't the only Parselmouth in the school."

Her eyes widened and her knees buckled. She was only kept upright by the weight of his body against her and his hand on her shoulder. How had she forgotten that he knew? True, she had a lot on her mind, but she had completely forgotten that he had heard her speak Parseltongue on the Quidditch pitch.

"Say what you like, do you really think anyone's going to believe you over me? Where have you been for the last seven years? I'm the teachers pet, always the top of the class, I've helped saved the world a few times. What have you done? Face it Draco, the only thing people remember of you is that you were turned into a ferret in fourth year and your dad's an asshole." She spat the words in his face, her voice the strongest it had been since he'd cornered her, but it was all a bluff. If he told even _one_ person about that, Dumbledore was sure to hear of it. And it didn't take a genius to work out what would happen next.

Draco paled at her words. His grip tightened on her shoulder until she whimpered at the pressure and knew she would have bruises.

"Ok, I'm losing patience with this so I'm going to say it nice and clear. Help me or I'll hurt you."

She didn't say a word.

"Fine. I'll give you some time to think about it. You've got until the end of classes today. I'll meet you outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, make sure you get rid of Potter and Weasley first."

He lifted his hand from her shoulder and lowered the wand he held. As he took a step back she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

He dropped her wand and smirked at her, "if you tell anyone about this, that memory of mine will seem like a weekend in paradise compared to what I'll do to you."

Hermione watched as Draco shot a look at Crabbe and Goyle and walked off, the two minions following like good little puppies. As soon as they were out of sight she dropped her head into her hands and fought the shaking of her body.

Somewhere a bell rang. It was time for class to start. Hermione bent and picked up her wand, her hands free from the tremors that had racked her just minutes before.

Her thoughts were far from her homework as she wandered down the corridor this time, heedless of the fact that she was late for potions. Instead her thoughts were fixed firmly on a certain blonde and how she was going to prove to him that she could be taken off guard but there was no way she would be intimidated.

* * *

"Miss Granger, I see you have decided to grace us with your presence at last." 

"Sorry sir, I got…held up." She tried to ignore Draco's smirk as she slipped into the room.

"Detention, Miss Granger. And if you come in late to another of my classes, it will be the last one you come to, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," she mumbled, her eyes roaming the class. For some reason Goyle was in her usual seat, leaving the only empty space right between Draco and Crabbe.

She hesitated for a second.

"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Oh how she hated that man, with his greasy hair and his smarmy attitude.

"No, there's no problem sir," she sighed and slowly made her way towards the bench, 'accidentally' hitting Malfoy on the head with her bag as she placed it on the desk.

She studiously ignored both him and Crabbe and instead concentrated on the instructions Snape had placed on the board.

When Snape had finished explaining the days lesson, she stood up, still ignoring the conversation going on behind her back between Malfoy and Crabbe and made her way towards the supply cupboard with the rest of the class to get the required ingredients.

"Sorry, he just came and sat down next to us and before we could do anything, Snape came in," Ron mumbled in her ear from behind her, "I don't know what's going on but watch out because it can't be anything good."

She turned and smiled gratefully at him. "Don't worry, I can handle myself against Malfoy and Crabbe, besides, even they're not stupid enough to try anything in a packed classroom."

He grinned back before returning to the table where Harry was eyeing Goyle warily.

Hermione stood on her tiptoes to grab the jar of shredded boomslang skin that had been pushed to the back of a shelf, but before her fingers touched it a sharp pain on her backside almost pushed her into the shelf.

Before she could do anything, a rough hand was placed on the back of her neck so she couldn't move and hot breath tickled her ear.

"You should do what he wants, or you'll be in a _lot_ of trouble."

The voice was low and harsh. He gave her a shove before removing his hand from her and stepping back.

She whirled round to see a grinning Crabbe walking away from the cupboard towards a smirking Malfoy.

_He just slapped my ass! That bastard just slapped my ass!_ Hermione seethed with rage. That filthy troll had actually touched her. She felt her anger rising but she didn't care for once, he couldn't do something like that and think he would get away with it.

Instead of fighting against the rage, as she had done so many times, she used it. She started walking after him, looking normal to everyone else but she was concentrating incredibly hard.

Crabbe passed a cauldron, which promptly exploded, sending boiling mixture all over him.

"Goyle!" Snape barked from his desk, "Didn't you read the instructions?"

"Yes," replied the ogre slowly, staring at the remnants of his cauldron, "I don't know what happened."

"Clean up that mess immediately, Crabbe come here and I'll asses the damage."

Crabbe stumbled towards Snape, trying to grab his arm, which having received the brunt of the potion, had turned stone-like, and judging by his movements, was equally as heavy as it looked.

But the very next cauldron he passed exploded too. He almost howled as he was once more covered in foul smelling liquid.

Hermione calmly retreated to her seat and watched with interest as every single cauldron he passed blasted him with more and more of the potion until eventually he couldn't move and fell to the floor with a bang.

"Class is dismissed," roared Snape, "Malfoy, Goyle, stay behind and help me with him."

Draco shot Hermione a look as she gathered up her things. She just smiled sweetly at him and went to join a laughing Harry and Ron at the door.

* * *

The rest of the day, for Hermione, was nowhere near as exciting as that morning. As she laughed and joked with Ron and Harry, and then later on at lunchtime, with Ginny, she didn't feel the slightest tinge of guilt. Why should she? It was all that arsehole's fault for touching her and threatening her in the first place. 

Not even when Malfoy and Goyle appeared at lunch without Crabbe and pronounced loudly that he was likely to be in the hospital wing for a while, did she feel bad for what she'd done to him. As far as she was concerned, he deserved everything he got.

By the time she got to the last class of the day, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Hermione had put the whole of the morning's incidents out of her mind. Until the bell rang for the dismissal of the lesson and Malfoy gave her a pointed look as he walked past her towards the door.

It was then that her heart sank. He was going to want an answer. She took her time, packing away her books slowly, head down, until it was only herself, Harry, Ron and Tonks left in the room.

"I actually wanted to talk to you three." Hermione lifted her head at the sound of Tonks's voice. She cast a glance towards the slightly ajar door and knew that somewhere beyond that, Malfoy was waiting for her.

"What did you want?" Harry asked the young Auror, smiling at her like an old friend.

"Well," she looked slightly apprehensive and almost as young as the trio themselves as she shuffled on the spot, her now completely pale lilac hair tied back neatly, "how am I doing?" She blurted out, "you know, as a teacher. I mean, I know I'm not here for the pupils to like me, trust me, I've had all the lectures I can take on being harsh with them from McGonagall and Snape, but still…" she trailed off.

"Tonks, I can honestly say that, except maybe for Lupin, you're the best Defence teacher we've had," Harry grinned at her and she smiled back at him.

"Well, Harry was alright too," Ron chipped in, "but thinking about it, you beat him."

"What?" Harry pasted a mock hurt look on his face, "you mean I'm not the best Defence teacher you've ever had?"

"Well, no offence Harry," Ron clapped him on the shoulder and smiled ruefully as Tonks laughed, "but there's no way you could beat Tonks's first lesson."

Even Hermione smiled at that memory. Tonks had transformed into Professor Snape and attempted to coerce Pansy Parkinson into dancing the waltz with her round the room. Supposedly the lesson was about how easy it was to be tricked into believing someone was not who they appeared to be, but Hermione had an inkling that it was just a way for Tonks to have fun with the Slytherins and the most unlikeable teacher at Hogwarts.

From then onwards Tonks's lessons had been a hit. They were a sort of cross between Lupin's and 'Mad-Eye's lessons, extremely informative with an edge that came from having a teacher who'd actually performed the spells in duels and battles.

"Great! That's really good to know," she looked genuinely pleased, "but that's not the only thing I want to talk to you about. Harry, Professor Dumbledore told me he talked to you about what happened down at the Quidditch pitch?"

Harry's mood changed instantly to the attentiveness he wore whenever the subject of anything remotely connected to danger was raised. "Yeah, I told him everything, who was on the pitch, what Malfoy did, everything I could remember."

"Right," Tonks looked serious, "so do you think it was the heir?"

"I thought it could be. I mean, it was a giant snake, it just screams 'Slytherin', doesn't it? But if it was the heir, why did the snake spit me out? Surely Voldemort would be happy if his kid managed to kill me?"

Hermione didn't like this conversation. She sank back down into her chair and watched silently as the conversation went on around her.

"Unless Voldemort needs you for something else, and the heir just lost control or something then regained enough sense not to kill you. Or maybe they thought they'd be too easy to trace if they killed you on the grounds." Tonks seemed to be talking more to herself than to Harry, "there's just too many possibilities to really know for sure what happened. Also, I heard there was an incident in potions this morning."

Hermione's heart stopped.

"Yeah, but it wasn't aimed at me. Some cauldrons exploded, but the funny thing is, the contents only hit Vincent Crabbe – no one else in the room. Every single one he passed just kind of spilled on him."

"The only thing that's happened to you personally Harry, is the snake thing, right?" Harry nodded.

"What about you two? Has anything happened to you?" Hermione couldn't help noticing Harry and Ron's eyes flick towards her as though they expected her to say something.

"No," Ron said.

"No," Hermione mumbled herself, eyes on the desk.

"Ok, so it doesn't seem that the heir is targeting you three in particular. I haven't gained any readings from Moody's dark detectors yet but that only means nothing's happened in this room or in the immediate vicinity. Why would Crabbe be attacked though? Could it just have been some sort of a freak accident?"

"Maybe it was to shift any suspicion," Ron seemed to be revelling in the impromptu brainstorming session, "think about it. If the heir is a Slytherin, you would expect him to attack us three, not another Slytherin. They could just be trying to throw us off the scent because they'll know we're after them, and it wouldn't be long til they were caught. This way, if they did try to snuff Harry, they could make it look like an accident instead of murder, because people won't think he's after Harry."

"But they've got to know that if I die, everyone's going to think it was Voldemort's kid that killed me."

"Guys," Tonks cut in, "we don't know anything about this person. For all we know it could just be some sweet little Hufflepuff who happened to find out that Voldemort was their father, and they don't want anything to do with him. All we know for sure is that, whoever it is, they have a hell of a lot of power, and probably not a clue as to how to control it."

"But wouldn't the power have always been there?" Ron asked slowly. Hermione looked up, she'd wondered that herself. How come she'd only come into the power once she'd found out about her parentage?

"Yes, it's always been there, but the thing about magic is you can't really use it if you don't believe you have it and can use it. It's a really difficult concept and I don't fully understand it myself, but the best example is muggle-born witches and wizards: while those born into wizarding families know about magic from the day they're born, muggle-born don't know magic exists until they get their Hogwarts letters. Kids from magical families inevitably experiment with magic, stealing their mother's wand or whatever," she glanced at Ron, who blushed and looked away, "but, other than the odd occasion of accidental magic, those children don't do anything because they don't _know_ they can do anything. They don't know that they have this power that they can just tap into, until they come here. It's the same with the heir. Obviously they knew they could perform magic, but there was no way they could know the true extent of it; how powerful they actually are. And now they've realised their potential they can begin to utilise it."

A sombre silence met her speech. The trio just looked at each other mutely, until Hermione stood and picked up her bag.

"Well, we don't seem to be getting much done here, and I better go the library, I've got homework to do. And I'll do some research about the heir. Being Voldemort's daughter…or son, has to have some distinguishing feature or mark or something."

She smiled as best she could at her friends before making her way to the door. It was true that she was going to look up as much as possible about the heir, because she couldn't run the risk of someone else doing the research and finding out something that would point the finger at her.

As soon as she'd stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her she felt slightly better. Sitting there listening to all those theories, _about her_, was killing her. All she'd wanted to do was break down and confess everything, but he mind just kept flashing back to the utter abhorrence in Harry's voice when they'd spoken of the heir in Dumbledore's office.

A slight shift in the air around her brought Hermione's head around to focus on the figure slightly down the corridor.

Just the look of complete horror on Draco's face was enough for her blood to run cold and her breath catch.

Her secret was out.

A/N – Please **review** if you liked the chapter! Hell, **review** even if you hated it!

Oh, and I've got a slightly strange request, if anyone knows of any good Hp/Dr Who or HP/His Dark Materials crossovers can you let me know? I know they're really weird crossovers but I found one of each that were really good and I was just wondering if there were any others floating around on the site. Thanks :-)


	14. My Weird Luck

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 14: My Weird Luck**

DISCLAIMER: I don't have a few million quid in the bank. JK Rowling does. 'Nuff said.

A/N – Yes it's short, and yes it's been a couple of weeks, but hey, it's something! Sorry about the delay, but I've been away on holiday getting all tanned :-) then returned to some...well not really man _trouble_, per se...but a few issues anyway. So here's you update, and I might post another one really soon to make up for it if I get a chance to in the next few days.

* * *

"Draco…" Hermione breathed, her eyes fixed upon his ashen face.

At her single word he paled even further, looking almost ghostly, and turned sharply away from her, starting to sprint as soon as his back was to her.

"Draco," she called once more, as loudly as she dared with Harry, Ron and Tonks just through the door behind her, "stop!" Unconsciously she reached out a hand, as if to grab him.

A slight tingle ran through her arm, continuing until it reached her fingertips, causing an almost painful throb from the ring as the prickle ran past it. The feeling subsided almost as soon as it had appeared, but before she could do little more than wonder at it, she noticed that Draco had stopped running. In fact, he was just standing there in the middle of the corridor, still facing away from her.

She spared a glance at the doorway, through which faint voices could be heard before striding as quickly as possible towards the motionless blonde. She circled him until she could see his stricken face with its stormy grey eyes which bore into her.

He spoke through clenched teeth; "what did you do to me?"

"I don't…I don't know what you mean? Why did you stop running?" Those eyes of his never left her face, though the expression in them changed somehow.

"I can't move, Gra…Hermione." Once more he forced the words out, "whatever you did to me, reverse it. Please."

Hermione started at the first civil word she could ever remember hearing Malfoy say to her.

"I didn't mean to stop your running, well, I wanted you to stop, but not like this, I didn't do it on purpose. Oh Merlin," she realised she was babbling and tried to formulate coherent sentences.

"Ok, so the thing is, I don't _actually_ know how I did this, so…" she winced at the ice in his eyes, "I don't really know how to undo it, and any minute now Harry, Ron and Tonks are going to walk out of that classroom, see you, and the proverbial will hit the fan."

"I don't particularly care, Granger, just undo it, please!"

She tried to ignore the undercurrent of fury in his tone and instead concentrated on the task at hand.

"Fine…" her mind was racing. How could she undo something when she didn't know how she'd done it in the first place?

Tentatively Hermione placed her hand on Draco's chest, theorising that maybe physical contact between herself and him would strengthen the power of the ring and her determination to reverse what she'd done.

"What are you doing?" Draco almost whined when she touched him.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco, I'm trying to concentrate so please just shut up!"

She looked up into his face to see his blazing eyes and his furiously moving mouth – but no sound escaped his lips. She allowed herself a brief smile even through her incredulity, this was a definite improvement.

It gave her an idea though. Maybe, unlike normal magic where a specific wave if the wand or a trigger word was needed to release it, all she needed to use her powers was her will. She just needed to want something to happen and exert her intent and it would happen – Harry to be saved from falling; Crabbe to be punished; Draco to stop talking – and the ring would make it happen.

"Draco," she spoke quietly, her eyes fixed on the hand she held against his chest, "you can move and you can speak." She didn't just say the words, she _willed_ it to be so.

That now familiar tingle warmed the ring and spread almost like an electric shock to Draco.

She looked to his face to see if it had worked and saw him lower his face to stare down at her before taking a single step back, away from her hand.

"Please. Don't run," it was a request, not an order and he seemed to deliberate for a few seconds, looking almost torn.

"Alright, you want to talk, let's talk." She only had a second to breathe a sigh of relief before a door back along the corridor opened. The door to the defence against the dark arts classroom.

"Hide!" Hermione panicked and pushed him into the nearest room, closing the door over behind them, but leaving enough room for her to peek out of the crack.

Harry, Ron and Tonks were slowly making their way down the corridor, obviously in the middle of a conversation.

"…They met at the top of the Astrology tower. We didn't hear everything, but what we _did_ hear sounded like he was blackmailing her," Ron's voice drifted into the room.

"You spied on her?" Tonks sounded almost aghast.

"We were worried about her!" Harry hastily defended them, "those first couple of weeks we got back she seemed really stressed out and worried…" he paused, "more so than usual, I mean."

"But what would he be blackmailing her with? He's a Malfoy, it's not like he needs…" Tonks' voice faded away, leaving Hermione with her racing thoughts.

They'd followed her? Her two best friends, the only two people who she felt she could trust at the moment, had followed her and listened into her conversation with Draco?

Her thoughts consumed her until a noise from behind her pulled her out of her reverie and she remembered there was a more immediate problem to be dealt with.

"How much did you hear?" She asked him, knowing the answer but hoping for almost the first time in her life that she was wrong.

"Well, let's see, you're the Dark Lord's daughter, pretty much the most powerful person in this school at the moment, and I already know that all that power you hold is amplified even further by the ring you wear."

Even though it was what she had expected Hermione still couldn't think of anything to say to him and instead just watched him mutely as he seemed to be thinking about something.

She saw his face shift as something occurred to him and now he looked way too smug and she dreaded what would come next.

"Although," his sneer was back on his face and that old superiority had found its way back into his voice once more, "you're scared to death that someone will find out."

"Don't you dare even think about it…" she began warningly, advancing on him even as she tried to hide the panic she felt.

He cut her off, "well Potty and the Weasel seem to think I'm blackmailing you already, and we all know how much they _hate_ to be wrong."

"You're going to try to blackmail me?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Whatever works, Granger. I've already tried everything else and you still won't do what I want."

"Oh, but you think I'm going to help you now that you're blackmailing me?" She couldn't help grinning. The poor boy didn't know what he was letting himself in for.

"I don't see that you have any choice in the matter, love. That is a huge secret you're keeping. What do you think your friends will say when they find out that the evil wannabe dictator they all hate is actually your daddy?"

Hermione stalked towards him, a slight smile on her face that she knew was unpleasant, "tell me then Draco, how are you going to talk to anyone when I've ripped your tongue out. Sloooowly," she dragged the word out as she came close to him, leaning into him, the back of his knees hit a desk in his attempt to back away from her.

"Don't be stupid, Granger, you do one thing to me and your whole life is over. You'd be run out of the school, all your friends would hate and fear you, and you'd have nowhere to go except to the one person you obviously wouldn't want to go to." His arrogance had faltered yet he still tried to intimidate her.

"Draco, _Love_, firstly: I have gotten away with injuring the Muggle Studies professor, nearly killing Harry, and now pretty-severely maiming Crabbe. It would be easy for me to just kill you, there are plenty of people in this school who hate you. You won't be missed. And if any questions _are_ asked, well, Voldemort's child is obviously going to be a Slytherin, isn't it? Maybe your father pissed him off and he decided to punish him by disposing of his son and heir." She was speaking very slowly and quietly, her face right up against his.

"And then there is the fact that I'm pretty sure Voldemort would love to hear how you think of him as a…what was it now?" She paused to take in his ashen complexion, "oh yes. 'A creature who couldn't even wipe his own arse a couple of years ago.' My my Draco, what do you think he and your father would think about that?"

"Don't," his voice was hoarse as he watched her eyes and saw the truth in her words, "please, don't."

"You're not the only one who can hold a threat over someones head Draco. And what I know could earn you a fate far worse than anything you could ever imagine." A thrill of supremacy ran through her at the panic on his face and the absolute terror within his silver orbs.

Then, all of a sudden, she just felt…wrong. The power she'd felt only a second before hit her in a wave, almost sickening her and she sighed, taking a step back, dropping her eyes from his.

"Just go away." She almost whispered. He hesitated for the barest second before skirting around her and heading for the door.

She didn't move until the sound of the shutting door reached her ears. Her legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground, trembling at what she'd just done.

Sobs racked her body and she pulled her legs into herself until she was curled into a tight ball on the floor, nauseated at herself. She had threatened Draco with terrible things. And she had meant every word she said.

Was this who she had become? Was the power of the ring corrupting her? Was she truly her father's daughter? Or did she have nothing to blame her foulness on but her own nature?

Questions whirled in her brain. Questions she didn't know the answers to and didn't want to know the answers to. She wept until her eyes were swollen and her throat raw, until eventually her wails subsided into whimpers, and still she huddled there on the cold stone.

Hours later, when the sun had fallen and gusts of wind were battering sheets of rain at the windowpanes as if to punish them for something, Hermione eventually stood. She made her way through dark corridors, lit only by uneven flashes of lightning. Dimly, she knew that it was too late for anybody to still be out of bed and a part of her was grateful for that fact.

She let her feet take her where they wanted to go. Her mind was stuffy and slow, she couldn't seem to form a coherent thought. She was so far gone that even when she found her way outside and the rain was beating against her face and body, she didn't register the cold or the moisture. Instead she just kept walking towards the large tree beside the lake that she, Harry and Ron were likely to be found under during the warmer months at Hogwarts.

Hermione slid to the floor beneath the branches and fixed her eyes on the raindrops assaulting the lake, trying desperately to think of some way out of her situation. Eventually her head slipped forward and she sank into oblivion, her body numb from the cold.


	15. And Then I Knew What To Do

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 15: And Then I Knew What To Do**

DISCLAIMER: Yes, because I'm doing a law degree 'cause it's just so much fun.

A/N – Ok, I know some people hate long A/N's but I felt like I had to try to explain why it's been nearly a year since I last updated. This fic is currently written up to Chapter 20, which was written last July. I absolutely hate people who start a fic and never finish it, but I'm one of them now. I kinda gave up on this fic because I just had no idea what to do with it, so I stopped putting up the rest of the chapters. I have now decided that I'm really really going to try so hard to write more of it, and hopefully finish it off. I really wanna apologise to anyone who started following the story only to have it put on hiatus. So I'm gonna post up to chapter 20 and hopefully by the time that's up I'll have another chapter to post.

* * *

The sun beat upon her almost bare shoulders as she swung in the bright park, her bushy hair flying behind her in the breeze caused by her movements. So intent was she upon the repetitive motions and on the concentration of trying to go even higher each time than she had the previous one, that she didn't notice the man standing beside her until he spoke.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Although she wasn't expecting the words, Hermione wasn't startled by the voice. Nor did she turn her head to look at the speaker. She just kept on swinging, concentrating on pumping her legs to go as high as possible.

"Yes, I am," was all she replied.

It won't last long, you know. Sooner or later you'll have to make a choice."

Still she didn't look at him.

"A choice about what?"

When no answer came she finally turned her face to the spot the speaker stood, only to find no one there.

She slowed in her swinging and swept the area around the swing with her gaze. The grass ran for as far as she could see. No trees, no fences, no flowers even, just grass. And a man.

The swing slowed to a stop and Hermione stepped off it, making her way towards him. She caught up with the man easily, though he seemed to be walking far faster than she was.

"A choice about what?" She asked once more, now walking with him.

"A choice about the swinging." She looked up at him but the sun was in her eyes, obscuring his features.

"You can choose to stay up high or you can choose to remain on the ground with everybody else."

"But you can't stay in the air." Hermione cocked her head to the side, puzzled.

"You can stay at the top if you want to. You just have to work at it."

"But how?"

"Magic."

This answer didn't satisfy her curiosity though. "Magic can't do that. I can do magic, and you can't stay at the top. The swing always brings you down."

"My child, you can do anything you want with magic. You can break any rule you want as long as you've got the power, and that includes the rules of gravity."

Hermione pondered this for a moment, "isn't it wrong to mess with the rules?"

She felt rather than saw the man's eyes on her at this statement, but she didn't turn to face him.

"It is not a matter of right and wrong. The only important thing is whether you can do it or not. Not many people can, but I know that you can do it. You can do anything you want. Anything."

They walked on in silence for several minutes until he spoke again, "look."

She didn't need him to point out what she was to look at for a castle had appeared in front of them. Maybe the man had made it appear, or maybe it had been there the whole time and she hadn't noticed it, she didn't know, but it didn't matter anyway.

"It's filled with people. People you walk amongst every day, yet who have nowhere near your power. You are better than them, child."

"Why am I better than them?"

"You have the power to stay at the top. No-one in that school can even get near the top."

"I have friends there though. I don't want them to be left behind."

"Friends?" He gave a slight scoff, the only sound she'd heard from him other than the emotionless voice, "friends who follow you and spy on you? Who don't notice when something inside you has changed? Friends who are too caught up in their own troubles to care much for yours? They are not your friends, my child, they only want to hurt you and use your power for their own gains."

"No, they're not like that," for the first time Hermione felt some emotion other than a vague serenity, she felt apprehension, "it's not true, they don't want to use me."

"Yes they do Hermione. All of them. Every single person, they hate you for something you can't change, they fear you for the power you hold, but it doesn't matter because you can, and will, rise above them all. They will never hurt you, I won't let them hurt you."

His voice soothed her worries and she looked up to him again, only to be blinded once more by the sun, "it sounds so lonely, I don't know if I could stand it."

"You have everything you need. You cannot trust those in the castle – the self-righteous Gryffindors, dim-witted Hufflepuffs, and the supposedly intelligent Ravenclaws who consider themselves superior to you. You will rule over them all. If you must have a companion, Draco Malfoy is suitable, he shall aid you if you…request…it of him."

"I don't like Draco." They had reached the castle by this time and walked straight through the wide open gates towards the lake.

"You will." He replied quietly, "here is where I leave you. You will remember what we talked about?"

"Yes. Must I really make a choice?"

Yes. But I believe you will make the right one."

"Why must you go?"

"Have you enjoyed talking to me?"

This made her stop and think. Had she really enjoyed talking to him? She didn't even know who he was, yet he was so familiar. "I think so."

"You have the ring. That will remind you of me. I will never be far from you as long as you continue to use it."

She looked to the bright metal glinting in the sunlight and felt a brief flash of something indefinable, "you know when I use it?"

"Of course. I can feel the power being dragged through it. it is connected to me, as it is connected to you. I know every time you use it. Though I cannot tell what you use it for I know that it is for the right reasons – most probably the punishment of your enemies, which is the rings purpose."

She sat beside the lake but he didn't sit down beside her, he just stood next to her. Something wet fell on her and she looked up to the sky to see the sun gone, replaced by dark clouds and the air around hr was filled with a million raindrops, like the tears of some grief-stricken deity.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask the man where the sun had gone, only to realise that he, too, had disappeared.

She looked back to the lake, churning with the force of the wind, the raindrops slamming into the surface vengefully, and suddenly she realised that it wasn't the winds churning the water, it was people. Her friends, her classmates, they were all writhing in the water, screaming for her help as she could only sit by and watch them cry. The water was turning red and she prayed that it was just the light that made it so, but even as she looked around for some way to help them she saw that the rain itself was red. Red as blood.

A scream escaped her, filled with pain and anger as well as pure terror.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she sat up, her heart beating so loudly that anyone could have heard it, were it not for the screams that were still coming from her.

"Miss Granger, please settle down!" Madam Pomfrey came hurrying up to her, the concern etched on her face as she addressed the hysterical girl.

"He said it would be ok, but they were screaming, oh God they were screaming and drowning, and the water was blood. It was my fault, I shouldn't have listened to him, he's so evil!" Hermione sobbed frantically, staring at her hands as though they were covered in the blood she'd seen.

"Miss Granger, please, it's alright now. There's no screaming, no blood."

Hermione's sobs quieted after a while and she pulled back from the matronly woman's shoulder which she'd been crying onto.

"What happened?" She asked rather hoarsely, brushing embarrassedly at her face.

"I could ask you the very same thing, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey replied kindly, "you were found outside in the rain, beside the lake. You were half dead! It has taken me two days to get your fever down! And then you wake up screaming from a nightmare, oh my dear. But you should be fine now. I'll just go and get you some pepper-up potion in case of any lasting sniffles, but you'll be free to go soon."

"Wait," Hermione called as the woman turned away, "I've been here for two days?"

"Yes, my dear, nearly three now though, being as it's the middle of the night. Mister Malfoy brought you in and told me he'd found you by the lake in that terrible storm. Misters Potter and Weasley have been sitting by your side at any spare moment they had."

Hermione let Madam Pomfrey go as everything started coming back to her. She shuddered as she remembered what she'd said to Malfoy.

The dream was crystal clear within her mind, every detail, every word that was spoken, was imprinted upon her memory. It didn't take a genius to figure out the identity of the man. There was only one thing she didn't understand though.

Was it just a feverish dream or was it a visit?


	16. My Pretty Red Heart

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 16: My Pretty Red Heart**

DISCLAIMER: Whatever…

A/N – Thanks for the reviews, it's really great to know that there are still readers for this fic! Lol.

* * *

Hermione begged Madam Pomfrey to allow her to leave the hospital wing, insisting that she was feeling so much better and all she wanted was to sleep in her own bed.

By the time she'd convinced the skeptical healer to let her go it had passed curfew and was gone midnight. After promising she would go straight to her dormitory, Hermione strolled through the corridors at a leisurely pace, relishing the time to think that the lateness of the hour afforded her. She was in no hurry to get back to her dormitory, she didn't particularly want to sleep after the dream she'd had. Besides, after being unconscious for the past three days, she wasn't all that tired.

A figure appeared at the end of the hallway she was in, too blanketed in darkness for her to see properly and for a heartstopping moment she imagined it was Voldemort again, come to get her. She stopped her walking and just stared at the figure mutely until it stepped out into a sliver of moonlight from a window and a gleam of silver hair reassured her. A feeling she wasn't used to when faced by Draco Malfoy.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" She asked quietly as she resumed her strolling towards him.

"I'm not tired." Came the silky reply.

"So you decided to wander the corridors at midnight?" She was close enough to see his face now.

"No. I was actually waiting for you."

That surprised her. "Why?" She stopped beside him and looked at his face enquiringly.

"Why do you think, Granger? I wanted to talk to you." Strangely it was quite a comfort to hear the same irritation in his voice he'd used almost every time he'd talked to her since first year.

"Fine. What do you want to talk about?" She enquired with a small smile. She was enjoying winding him up.

"Juts come on, Granger," he jerked his head for her to follow him and set off down the corridor back the way he'd came.

They walked on in an amicable silence for a few minutes until Hermione felt restless and broke it, "where exactly are we going then?"

He looked down at her and gave a small smile, "well it's a bit cold for the astronomy tower, so how does the Room of Requirement sound?"

"As long as it's got a seat and a fire it sounds good."

Not another word was spoken until they reached the seventh floor. Hermione leaned against the wall and let Draco do all the work, pacing the corridor and finding the door. Once they were finally seated in front of a roaring fire with a couple of drinks in the same incarnation of the room she'd woken up to last time, Hermione asked something which had been bugging her since she'd woken up and spoken to Madam Pomfrey.

"Why did you come looking for me the other night?"

"Who said I came looking for you?" He scowled.

"Well if you weren't looking for me then what exactly where you doing by the lake in the middle of the night when there was practically a storm on?"

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered gruffly, staring resolutely into the fire.

"I don't believe you," she teased, "tell me. You know I can _make_ you tell me, don't you?"

"Hey, you'd just been threatening me, why the hell would I go looking for you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

Several seconds passed and she was actually seriously considering forcing him to tell her the truth when he heaved a huge sigh and finally turned to face her. "Look, Granger – Hermione – I'm only going to say this once, so listen carefully. I am an evil heartless Slytherin bastard and I don't want you to forget it, no matter what. Ok?"

"Okay," she repeated slowly, not quite understanding what the relevance of this fact was, "but what has that got to do with anything?"

The question had barely left her lips before he answered it, looking slightly ashamed and disgusted, "I heard you crying."

"What?" She asked, hardly believing she could have heard right.

"I heard you crying! Happy now?" He scowled even harder at her as though daring her to laugh or say anything to him, "when I got out the door I turned around to curse you," at the look she gave him, he just shrugged, "but I could hear you crying and it just didn't seem worth it."

She sat, stunned and speechless at this revelation of Draco actually having what amounted to compassion. She couldn't think of anything to say, which didn't really matter because he'd carried on.

"So when Potter and Weasel interrupted my torturing of a first year that had stood on my foot a few hours later and demanded to know where you were and what I'd done to you, I…I kinda got a bit worried."

"Um…why?" Hermione asked, still shocked at what he was saying.

"I dunno…" he was looking at her as if it was _her_ fault he'd felt sorry for her, "you seemed really upset. Anything could have happened to you. Especially since it seems that whenever you get emotional, that ring does something."

For a few seconds Hermione just sat and stared at him for a couple of seconds before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Draco stared at her for a second, the frown of disgust on his face slipping to one of confusion. "What? What are you laughing at?"

She managed to stop her laughter long enough to say; "I'm sorry! I am. It's just – if anyone had told me a month ago that the one person that would come looking for me in the rain at night because they heard me crying would be you, I think I would probably have recommended a psychiatrist."

He managed a small grin, "you know what? If someone had told me that, I would have probably cursed them until they _really_ needed that psychiatrist."

They passed a moment in comfortable silence.

"Sorry," she said after a little while.

"Never tell anyone what I just told you and you're forgiven." He spared her a rare smile. "At the risk of sounding even less like the Slytherin bastard: why did you scream in the hospital wing?"

"You heard that?" Hermione was mortified.

"Granger, I'm pretty sure half the castle heard that," Draco's sneer was an almost welcome return to character, she wasn't sure she was comfortable with him actually having human emotions.

After giving him the stony look she usually did when he spoke to her in that tone, she spilled everything about the dream. He just listened quietly, not interrupting, until she'd finished.

"So, what do you think?" She asked, apprehensively, "I mean, you've got to know more about this sort of stuff than I do. Can he do that? Visit me in my dreams, I mean? Or was it simply a nightmare?"

He seemed to ponder this for a little while until she felt she couldn't bear waiting any longer. Finally he spoke.

"There was something I read about in one of the books in my fathers study. It was a few years ago, obviously he wants me to be a Death Eater as soon as I leave school, so he let me have a look at some of the books. 'Starting my education early', he called it. It had the complete opposite effect, up until that point I'd _wanted_ to be a Death Eater like him, but some of the things in them…" he paused, a haunted look that was all too familiar to Hermione creeping into his eyes, "but anyway, there was something about entering a persons dreams. When someone's asleep there's an incantation you can say which will take you into the dream. You can then manipulate it, change the place in the dream, make it stormy weather, or whatever. You can't touch the person though, or use magic against them. But you can talk them into doing things. You know the old urban legend about if someone dies in their dream, they'll die in real life?" He waited for her weak nod before going on, his voice soft and steady, "well, it's true. And it doesn't take much to urge someone to take that extra step over the cliff you've put there, convince them that they can fly and watch them flail as they realise they can't and that they're going to be killed by something that isn't real."

Hermione sat, stunned at this revelation, at what he could have made her do. Suppose he could have made her sleepwalk? She could have done anything. He could have _made_ her do anything. "But…he only talked to me." She said feebly.

"Be thankful for that." Came the grim response. "There's one thing I don't understand though."

He waited for Hermione's questioning look before he continued, "well, he told you that _I_ should be your 'companion', but I disobeyed him. I didn't kill Potter. If anything, he should be telling you to kill me."

They carried on their discussion until Hermione found herself unable to keep her eyes open anymore. She left Draco in the Room of Requirement, staring into the still merrily dancing flames and dragged herself to bed.

That morning when she awoke, she felt more awake than she had in a long time. The constant sleep of the previous few days seemed to have done her some good.

She pulled the curtains around her bed back to the faces of Lavender and Parvati peering down at her.

"Hermione!" Parvati squealed – way too chirpy for that time in the morning.

"What happened to you?" Piped in Lavender, throwing herself – uninvited – onto Hermione's bed.

"Yeah, when you didn't come back to the common room a few days ago, Harry, Ron and Ginny went looking for you all over the castle, then next thing we know, you've been taken to the hospital wing by Draco Malfoy!" Parvati joined her best friend on the bed, landing almost on top of Hermione.

"There are loads of rumours going around."

Hermione blinked confusedly up at them and said warily, "Morning?"

"Come on, tell us what happened? So far the most believable rumour is that you're secretly going out with Malfoy, he took you flying on his broom and you fell off."

Hermione pushed the covers back, dislodging Lavender, and stood up, "nothing happened. I went for a walk and got caught in the rain. That's all. I am definitely not dating Draco."

"Why are you calling him Draco then? And how come it was _him_ who found you and took you to the hospital wing, and not Harry or Ron?" Lavender called after Hermione's back as she retreated to the bathroom.

"No idea!" Hermione shouted back as she closed the door and locked it with a satisfying click.

She couldn't help the smile on her face. Despite the annoyance, this was the first morning that had seemed…normal. This used to be a common occurrence – Lavender and Parvati trying to get the latest gossip about Harry or Ron out of her, but this year, they'd left her alone, seeming to notice something different about her.

In fact, quite a lot of people had left her alone. Her smile faded as she slowly realised just how much she'd pushed people away. Not just arguing with them, but also just not talking to them. Since she'd come back to school, the person she'd talked to most was Draco Malfoy.

She missed her friends. Even though it was true they'd followed her and listened into one of her private conversations, she missed just messing around with them, making fun of Snape in Potions, baiting the Slytherins and trying to get them in trouble.

That was when she decided. She wasn't going to worry about anything today – she was going to have fun.

The smile was back on her face by the time she reached the great hall for breakfast – thankfully her two roommates had left before she'd emerged from the bathroom.

"Hiya," she grinned brightly as she sat down beside Harry, Ron and Ginny, all of whom looked up at her in surprise.

"Um, hi." Harry reciprocated, after exchanging a confused glance with the others.

Ron and Ginny murmured greetings too and watched in shock as Hermione started piling her plate with more food than she'd eaten at every other breakfast put together.

Noticing them watching her, Hermione smiled at them and stopped eating long enough to say, "look, I'm really sorry I've been acting so weird lately. I've just had a lot of things on my mind. Just think of it as extended PMT. Forgive me?"

A hopeful look shone from her face, and the others couldn't deny that they'd missed their bubbly Hermione.

"Yeah, of course!" Came from each of them, along with a hug from Ginny.

As she settled down to eat again, she flashed the watching Draco a smile, choosing to ignore Ron's whispered enquiry of Harry, "what's PMT?"

* * *

Once breakfast was over, the golden trio made their way to the first class of the day: Potions. 

True to her resolution of that morning, Hermione waited until halfway through the class before deciding to liven things up a bit.

Snape had his back to the class, seemingly rearranging some jars on a shelf. Within her minds eye, she pictured a spot of colour starting at the bottom of the lank shoulder length hair, spreading its way up until every single strand of hair was a bright pink that wouldn't have looked out of place on a flamingo.

With this image, she stretched out her consciousness, feeling her magic tingle through the ring before trickling out of her fingertips in a controlled wave.

For a few seconds nothing happened and she looked back to the potion she was brewing, feeling slightly disappointed that it hadn't worked, until a nudge from Harry caused her to look back up.

Half the class were staring at Snape, who evidently hadn't realised anything was different about him. However, a bright pink spot had appeared at the tips of his hair, as though someone had dipped them in pink ink, and was slowly making its way through until sure enough…Snape had pink hair.

As one, the whole class burst out laughing. Snape whirled around to see what the disturbance was all about, only to find row after row of faces staring at him.

"What is going on?" He demanded, the stern look on his face marred by the bubblegum hair.

"Um, Sir, there's something…on your hair," stammered out Millicent Bulstrode.

"What?" It wasn't often that you got to see Snape confused. With a flick of his wand a hand mirror appeared and he peered into it, a look of shock and horror spreading across his oily features, quickly replaced by fury.

"Who did this?" He all but roared at the class, whose grins faded rapidly.

Silence.

Snape glared at the class, all of whom were looking slightly petrified. "I said, who did this?"

No one even breathed for fear of his wrath.

"If I have to ask one more time, the whole class will have detentions for the rest of their time at Hogwarts."

Everyone started looking round at each other. Hermione avoided Malfoy's eye, out of everybody in the room, he was probably the only person who even suspected her. She knew that there was no way Snape would go through with his threat, Dumbledore would never allow it.

"Fine," Snape seethed when nobody spoke up. "I will take this matter up with the headmaster. Someone will be punished for this!"

With that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. A moment of silence followed before everyone burst out laughing again and rapid conversations ensued.

Hermione risked a glance at Draco to see him give her a smile and miming clapping his hands. She returned his smile, along with a surreptitious bow of her head, before turning back to her sniggering friends.

The rest of the day continued in this vein. In almost every class, Hermione pulled a stunt. The Muggle studies professor almost had a heart attack when the Barbie dolls he'd brought in started dancing the can-can in a long row. In History of Magic, Professor Binns found himself faced with the ghosts of several Goblins, all of whom were adamant that they were still alive and demanded to be pointed in the direction of the nearest battle. Flitwick grew to 8 feet in height in Charms. The only class Hermione didn't dare to try anything in was Transfiguration. Angering Professor McGonagall wasn't something she wanted to risk.

By the time the last class had arrived, the whole class were wondering what was next to come. All anyone had been able to talk about were the odd disturbances that had been happening all day. Even at lunchtime and breaktime, rumours were flying around about what could possibly be going on. One of the most persistent and widely believed of these rumours was that Fred and George had returned.

"They would tell me if they were back though," insisted Ron to anyone who asked, although he began to look slightly dubious as more and more people asked him. Those who weren't in the classes where things were happening sought out those who were in order to hear first hand what was going on and their theories about it.

Hermione waltzed into Defence Against the Dark Arts, knowing that whatever she did in this class would have to be big. A fitting climax to an extremely fun day. This resolve was reinforced even further when Draco strode past her to his seat and whispered in her ear, "break a leg."

Tonks was extra wary that lesson, having heard about what had been happening to the other staff members who had taught that class throughout the day. Even though she was always up for a laugh, she'd made it clear as soon as everyone was seated that she had a bet going with a couple of the other teachers that she would be the one to catch out the culprit. "I've got 20 galleons riding on this, so I'm warning you now – try something and I _will_ use the skills I have learnt from being a full time auror to cash in."

Hermione thought very carefully as the class progressed. She needed to do something big, but something that couldn't possibly lead back to her. She was absently staring into space, thinking, until gradually her eyes began to focus on Crabbe. He had come into the class late and as such had to sit right at the front of the classroom, across the aisle and several rows in front of Goyle and Draco.

An idea began to form in her mind and she remembered the night on the astronomy tower when she'd realised she could read Draco's mind. She had never tried to do anything of the sort again since she'd found him in the corridor, with anyone, because the fact that she could do it scared her to death. But now…

If she could read someones mind, could she control it?

She focused all her will, her eyes boring into the back of Crabbes head. For a couple of seconds nothing happened until: _What would happen if a vampire got bit by a werewolf? Would you get a furry vampire? Or a werewolf who just drank blood instead of eating you? Or a vampire who drank blood but also got furry and ate people one night of the month? Or…_.

Those definitely weren't _her_ thoughts. She had to fight the urge to giggle at what was going through his head. Subtly she started whispering in his head, until hers was the only voice he heard and his musings about lycanthropic vampires were drowned out.

She watched as he stood from his seat and, ignoring Tonks' questions about what he was doing, shuffled towards the table Goyle and Draco shared. Once there he got down on one knee beside Goyle's seat, grabbed onto one of his hands, and stared up at him with misty eyes.

The whole class was staring at him as he started to speak: "Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

Those who recognised this quote cocked their heads in wonderment that Crabbe could know them. Even Tonks seemed lost for words, which didn't matter because he wasn't finished yet.

"O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?"

By this time giggles had erupted, but the shocks were to keep coming. Hermione found that with just a little more effort, she could do more.

"What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?" The same misty look had appeared in Goyle's eyes as he replied to Crabbe's questioning.

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

People were gasping now and Tonks finally broke out of her shocked reverie to make her way towards the happy couple, but before she could reach them there was time for one more line.

"I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again."

Whistles and cheers broke out, many people clapped and Hermione left their minds and sat back in her seat, watching Crabbe and Goyle stare around gormlessly, wondering what was going on.

Noticing his position, Crabbe almost threw Goyle's hand away from him and stood.

"Well done boys, thank you for that bit of entertainment, but would you care to tell us why you…"

She broke off as she seemed to notice something hanging on the wall of the classroom behind Crabbe's head.

Something spinning furiously, like one of those brightly coloured windmills children have, that spin when the wind blows.

However, this was one of the many dark detectors Tonks had borrowed from Moody and it span whenever it sensed dark magic.

The faster it span, the more evil the power was.

Hermione stared with everyone else as the spinning grew so intense that a high pitched whistling could be heard. Suddenly a loud crack echoed through the now silent room and every eye followed the detector as it detached from the wall and fell to the floor with a bang, still rotating softly.

Nobody spoke.

Tonks looked up from the floor and demanded, calmly and evenly, "who did that?"


	17. The Villagers Never Liked You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 17: The Villagers Never Liked You**

DISCLAIMER: What makes you think I own anything affiliated with Harry Potter? The millions of pounds I have in the bank? The huge mansion I live in? The thousands of adoring fans I have? Or the crappily paid job I work in between oh-so-exciting lectures on exactly why you can't fire someone just because they smell?

A/N – Oh my goodness! I can't believe that this story is on the alerts list of 74 people! And the fave's list of 40! Thank you all so much for making me smile :) And thanks x2 to everyone who reviews!

* * *

Nobody breathed.

"I said, who did that?" Tonks repeated, her voice no louder than it was before, but somehow even more commanding.

Hermione kept her eyes lowered and engaged in a fierce mental battle with herself. Half of her was adamant that she'd done nothing wrong, that she was only having a bit of fun, and it must have just been the passing of her power through the amplification of the ring that sent it off.

The other half was screaming at her that this wasn't true. That breaking into someone's mind and making them quote Shakespeare was all too close to the Imperious curse. That what she'd done was evil.

That she was truly her fathers daughter.

A million and one thoughts were pounding through her mind in a matter of seconds until she reached a decision.

Hermione could feel Draco's eyes on her as she raised hers. She flicked her gaze towards him and as they met his silvery-blue eyes his voice flickered through her mind - _don't do it Granger_ - but this only steeled her resolution.

She was a split second from raising her hand and confessing to Tonks when the classroom door opened and Ernie MacMillan strode in.

He seemed vaguely taken aback as the whole class turned to stare at him silently, all looking slightly shocked about something.

"Can I help you?" Tonks managed to sound like all she wanted was to help him leave so that she could get back to the task at hand.

"Er, sorry to disturb you Professor Tonks," he began, recovering enough to slip back into his normal slightly pompous tone, "but Professor Dumbledore wanted to see Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy in his office."

"Now?" Ernie actually took a step back at that one word from Tonks, she seemed so exasperated.

"Er, yes." He actually looked scared.

"Fine. Go on," she gestured vaguely around the room and the four of them stood and gathered their things as quickly as possible.

They could hear Tonks' continuing questioning of the class as they walked down the hallway.

"What was that all about?" Ernie seemed to recover somewhat once Tonks' withering gaze was safely behind a closed classroom door and directed at someone else.

Harry and Ron were eagerly relating the happenings of the hour while Hermione lagged behind. Draco stayed a few steps behind her, he didn't want to be seen talking to Hermione by the two Wonder boys.

"What was that all about then, Granger?" He hissed.

"Nothing, I was just having a bit of fun," she mumbled back, keeping her eyes on the trio before her, but they were too busy gossiping like old fishwives to hear her.

"Not that. The bit where you were about to own up to the whole bloody thing."

"No I wasn't," she lied.

"Yeah you bloody were. Do you have any idea what they would do to you if they found out it was you? They would find out who you are and then it would all be over."

"What would be over?" She was trying to keep her voice low and her eyes forward, but she had to fight not to look back at him.

"Everything. Like I told you before, they'd kick you out, and even if they didn't, every single person in this school would know who you are. What you are."

"You don't care, all you care about is that I help you escape your father."

"And yours."

It was this jibe that pushed her over the edge. Suddenly it didn't matter that they were just yards away from her two best friends and the Head Boy or that they were on their way to Dumbledore's office.

She stopped walking and turned to face him so suddenly that he barely had time to stop and almost walked straight into her.

"Do you have to keep reminding me of that? You think I don't know it already?" She hissed through clenched teeth, "I didn't ask for this. I don't want this!" Her voice was steadily rising and by this time she had attracted the attention of the others.

"That doesn't matter Granger, you've got it!" Apparently Draco didn't care that they now had an audience either.

"Stop pushing me! Maybe I want it to all be over. Maybe I don't care about all that other crap as long as I get left alone. I just want my life back, is that _really_ too much to ask?"

Draco took a step closer to her, "yes it is. You can't change this so you might as well accept it. Hell, Granger, turn this whole bloody mess to your advantage."

"I don't know how," she spat out, "get away from me."

He didn't move. "I thought you were a genius, Granger. Use your bloody head!"

If there was one thing Hermione couldn't stand it was having her intelligence insulted. Since he hadn't taken a step back, she did. In order to get more momentum into her fist as she slammed it into the side of his face.

"Whoah!" Cried Harry, who, up until this point had been watching the argument in silence with Ron and Ernie.

As Draco stumbled backwards, Hermione pulled back her arm to strike again. Harry grabbed onto it and moved so he was between her and Draco.

"What's going on?" He demanded. Ernie and Ron hadn't moved.

"Nothing." She responded sulkily.

"Fine. Malfoy?" He turned to face the sullen blonde.

"Bugger off Potter, this is nothing to do with you." He pushed past them and carried on down the corridor towards Dumbledore's office.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned again, more softly this time.

"It's nothing, Harry. He was just winding me up that's all. I lost my temper." The adrenaline that had coursed through her veins during the argument poured out of her in a wave leaving her feeling slightly shaky. And with an incredibly sore hand.

"Is it supposed to hurt this much?" she grimaced, looking down at her reddening knuckles and grasping them in her other hand.

Harry took her hand and examined it. "It's gonna hurt a lot worse tomorrow when it really starts bruising."

"Um, we should probably get to Dumbledore's office," said Ernie.

Hermione looked at him and Ron, both with disbelief and awe on their faces. "Yeah, you're right," she said, suddenly sheepish, "sorry about that."

She smiled apologetically at them and followed Draco's lead down the corridor, missing the knowing glances that Harry and Ron exchanged before striding after her.

* * *

"I asked you here in order to update you on the developments we have made regarding Tom's child."

Hermione, Ron and Harry were seated in Dumbledore's office, with Draco and Ernie waiting outside. Hermione sat quietly, cradling her hand in her lap, keeping her eyes averted from the Headmasters, instead staring resolutely at the wall behind his head.

"Now," the Professor continued quietly, "Professor Snape is trying to acquire more information from the ranks of the Death Eaters, however it is a slow process as none but the highest rank of the Death Eaters were privy to that information. Nonetheless, there are several things we have found out. First of all, we have confirmation that the child is indeed a student here at Hogwarts. He or she is in either their sixth or seventh year here. It is impossible to determine the exact date of their birth, therefore, it is a possibility that they are in the year below you.

"There has been much speculation amongst Voldemort's followers regarding this child and the role he or she will play in the future. Rumours are rife that Tom's offspring will assume his position upon his demise."

At this, Hermione focused on him sharply, "wait…I thought he was immortal. Isn't that what Harry said after…the Triwizard Tournament?" She looked to Harry as if for confirmation but didn't wait for an answer before turning her gaze back towards Dumbledore, trying to conceal the fear that had shot through her when he had told them what was planned for her life.

"Miss Granger, surely you know that there is no definitive method of cheating death forever, by any means. While it is true to say that Lord Voldemort has achieved much in the way of preserving and prolonging his life, eventually he will die." He paused and laced his fingers on the desk before him. "It is the way of the world and there is no changing that."

He smiled at her before turning his attention to Harry.

"Have you resumed the DA this year, Harry?"

The DA had become a sporadically run activity within the school, open to those above fifth year and headed by Harry, it was one of the most popular, if one of the least regular, ones. It's operation relied entirely upon Harry and, as a result, was run as and when he could fit it in.

"Not yet sir, although I had been thinking about it, especially with the news about the heir."

"I think it would be a very good idea, and, although I won't presume to tell you how to run it, may I suggest that you ask the members to keep their eyes open for any unusual activity."

"Of course, sir. Actually…" He paused, unsure how to continue, Hermione had shifted her gaze back to the wall above Dumbledore and was hoping that none of the occupants of the room noticed how she had suddenly tensed.

"Yes, Harry, I am well aware of the events of today, although I feel that they are nothing more than the work of a student letting off steam."

"But, what about the dark detector going off in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Ron blurted out.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, I believe that it was nothing more than a reaction to the type of magic occurring, namely the control someone held over Mr's Crabbe and Goyle. Moody's detectors are notorious for being highly sensitive. However, I am having Nymphadora and Poppy examine the boys, although I still believe it was just a prankster. Now, if you and Harry would please send Mr Malfoy in, I have something to discuss with he and Miss Granger."

Harry and Ron looked at each other then at Hermione, who had focused on Dumbledore once more.

Harry gave her a small smile as he stood, and Ron murmured to her that they would wait outside for her.

"No, it's ok, Ron, you two just go back to the common room and I'll see you there."

They'd barely left the room before Draco came in, not giving her enough time to ask the professor what he wanted to talk to them about.

"I do believe you both have received a detention fairly recently," the headmaster began once Draco was seated, "as you both know, students in seventh year sometimes preside over the detentions of one of the younger years. I have decided, and Professors Snape and Sprout have agreed with me, that your detentions shall be best served by taking the detention of several of the more…unruly students in second year. You will be in charge of determining what the detention will entail as well as supervising it. Together."

Hermione and Draco just looked at each other.

"The detention will take place tomorrow evening at 7, and how long it will last is up to you two. The students will meet you in the entrance hall. Now, I will let you go and discuss what you are going to do."

Dumbledore smiled at them and picked up a quill that was sitting at his desk. The two before him stood and made their way to the door.

"Oh, and Mr Malfoy, you may want to have Madam Pomfrey take a look at your eye. The same with your hand, Miss Granger," he called after them as they opened the door, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses.

Once they were safely out of the office and in the corridor outside the gargoyle, Hermione really looked at Draco for the first time since their fight.

From the side of his nose to halfway across his cheekbone, a huge bruise was forming. She had given him a black eye, which was actually more purple than black.

"Um, I'm really sorry about…punching you." She said with a smile as they started to make their way along the corridor.

"So you should be Granger," he replied with a small smirk, "how's your hand?"

"Hurts like buggery."

"Good."

They just looked at each other before both burst out laughing.

"I thought Dumbledore was going to give me extra detention or something," she admitted to him.

"If it had been pretty much anyone else he probably would have, but we both know I'm not one of his favourite people in the world. And you're part of the Golden Trio – the last hope of the wizarding world. Or some crap like that."

She mock glared at him for that comment.

"Ok, so what are we going to do for this detention tomorrow night then?"

"Personally, I feel we should dump them in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and watch while they try to find their way out. Without magic."

"Yes, well, you're a cruel and sadistic Slytherin, aren't you?"

"Yes I am, what's your point?"

"Um, I actually don't have one. Except, we can't do that because I'm pretty sure it would break the school rule about not knowingly causing another student any harm. Besides, we'd probably have to go in there and supervise them, and I know how much you hate the forest." She couldn't help smirking at him, especially when he shot her an incredibly dirty look.

"Fine then, what's your suggestion?"

"I don't know, how about something educational, like copying stuff from a book?"

"Copying stuff from a book? Granger, this is our chance to screw up a bunch of second years! I mean," he paused at her withering glare, "set them back on the right track and make sure they turn out like good, respectful, upstanding members of the community."

Their conversation continued like this for a while, with each of them suggesting ideas and the other finding reasons to shoot it down.

Hermione was actually enjoying herself, she was delaying the point when she'd have to think about what had happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts and instead was just concentrating on the moment she was in.

They still hadn't come up with any feasible ideas when they'd reached the corridor with the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I think I'm going to go put my hand in a vat of murtlap essence." Her hand had started throbbing and was steadily becoming the same colour as Draco's face.

"Sure, how about we meet at lunchtime in the Room of Requirement? I'd suggest the great hall, but there seem to be enough rumours about me and you, which by the way, I think your two roommates are responsible for. Oh, and try putting a couple of drops of alcohol in the murtlap essence, it'll sting a bit more but it helps speed the healing up."

"Where am I supposed to get some alcohol? This is a school!"

He was already walking back down the hall as he yelled back to her, "ask around. Even in Gryffindor some guy has to have smuggled some in."

She didn't even bother replying to that, instead turning to give the password to the Fat Lady, who looked at her in surprise.

"Wasn't he a Slytherin?" She asked Hermione, before she had a chance to say the password.

"Yes he was. Scarlet."

The portrait opened, but not before the Fat Lady could chastise her, "fraternising with the enemy will lead to nothing but trouble, you know!"

"Yeah, yeah," Hermione muttered as she walked through, "because fraternising with Malfoy is right at the top of my list of problems right now."

The second she walked into the room, everyone turned to look at her.

"Hi?" She tried, after a second, "what's going on?"

"Is it true?" Ron stood from the seat he was in and took a step towards her.

"Is what true?" She didn't understand what was happening.

"Colin said he just saw you and Malfoy talking and laughing together. Was it true?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Ron but yeah, it probably was true, we have to…"

She didn't get a chance to tell him about their detention the next night, he launched straight into a tirade.

"Why the hell were you laughing with him? Have you forgotten who he is, who his dad is? Is it true that you're also going out with him now, then? Is that what he's blackmailing you to do? Has he found out some dirty little secret about you so you're shagging him to keep it quiet?"

Ron suddenly stopped. For a second she thought he'd realised that he'd gone too far but when he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a gormless fish and a panicked look spread across his face, she realised he couldn't speak.

Hermione knew it was her that had done it, but she hadn't even done it consciously. And right now she didn't really care. Tears were blurring the watching people, every one of whom had turned to see her reaction to this. Harry was just sitting on the sofa beside the fire, his head in his hands, Ginny next to him, as though they'd known what was coming.

"Ron, Draco and I were talking because we have to supervise a detention together tomorrow night," her voice was low and steady and she had to try so hard to keep enough control over it to stop it cracking, "he is not blackmailing me. I am not going out with him. I am not 'shagging' him. And you have absolutely no right to follow me!"

She paused to wipe some of the tears off her face, which allowed her to see Harry lift his head up and blink at her in surprise. Ron had even stopped trying to talk.

"Yes, Harry, I know that you two followed me the other night. I can't believe you did that. You know what? Yes, I have become sort of friends with Draco Malfoy, because he seems to be the only one around here that doesn't see me as Harry and Ron's hanger-on."

"No, he sees you as just another muggle-born Gryffindor." Harry stood up and went to stand beside Ron. "Hermione, we're your friends, not him!"

"Funny, he hasn't followed me and listened in on any of my private conversations recently. Or is that what friends do now? I can't believe you two did that. I can't believe you thought I wouldn't find out. And what I really can't believe," here her voice cracked and she couldn't hold back her tears, "is that it actually took me this long to realise what a couple of egotistical _bastards_ you both are. So I can't have a life separate from you two? Well, from now on, I don't want anything to do with either of you. I hate you both."

She stormed past them, shoving first years out of her way as she went and ran up the stairs to her dormitory, slamming and locking the door behind her.


	18. Wars, Wars, Wars

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 18: Wars, Wars, Wars**

DISCLAIMER: I own a vast amount of clothes, shoes, legal textbooks, DVD's, books, cuddly toys…what I _don't_ own is anything to do with Harry Potter.

A/N – I know the alerts are down, and I was waiting til they came back up to post this…but it's been a while now, so here it is anyway.

* * *

Hermione sank to the carpet beside the door, her legs trembling too much for her to move any further, and her eyes so full of tears she wouldn't have been able to find her way to her bed even if she'd had the energy.

She was so sick of this. The fights, the crying, the living in constant fear that someone, somehow, would find out her secret. She couldn't take it any more. Something _had_ to give.

A tentative knock on the door startled her and she wiped away her tears as she managed a surprisingly strong, "please, go away." Only those who knew her well would have been able to tell that she was still crying.

"Hermione, please let me in." The voice sounded worried about her.

"Ginny, I just want to be left alone." Her words were slightly tremulous, and she took a deep breath to try to steady herself.

"Well, that's not going to happen. I'm coming in whether you like it or not, I was just being polite."

"The door's locked."

"Come on, Hermione, you think Fred and George didn't teach me _anything_? Besides, if nothing works, I'll just blow the thing up."

"Fine, fine." She wearily lifted herself from her heap and reached over to open the door for her.

She slid back onto the ground as Ginny slipped inside the door and quickly and firmly re-locked it behind her.

At Hermione's questioning look she responded, "Parvati and Lavender."

Ginny sat beside her on the floor and silently handed her a tissue.

"Thanks," she muttered, "so, what's the latest rumour then?"

"Well, apparently you're secretly dating Malfoy, either by your own free will, good girl falling for the bad boy, that sort of thing, or because he's blackmailing you after finding out a secret about you; or you're under the Imperius curse."

"What's he blackmailing me with?" Hermione's tears had started to slow.

"Your affair with Snape."

"What?" Hermione turned to stare at Ginny's amused face. She didn't know whether to laugh or vomit.

"That's the most predominant theory," Ginny couldn't help grinning at Hermione's disgusted look.

"That's just sick and wrong! Which twisted mind came up with that revolting idea?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

"No. When will those two grow a brain?" Hermione couldn't help a small laugh.

"I think it's probably a bit late for that," Ginny joined her friend's laughter.

Hermione pushed herself off the floor, wiping at her tearstained face with the tissue Ginny had handed her.

"Thanks. For making me laugh, I mean."

"No problem, what else are girl friends for," Ginny stood too, leaning against the wall as Hermione went to sit on her bed. "You can talk to me, you know."

Hermione just looked at her.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but if you ever do I'm here for you," she let out a giggle, "how corny does that sound? But it's true."

"Thanks," Hermione said again.

A couple of minutes passed in comfortable silence, Ginny knew that if Hermione wanted to talk to her, she would. Until then, there was nothing to do but wait for her.

"They just don't get it do they?" Hermione burst out.

Ginny moved to sit beside her on the bed, "Hermione, they're guys, of course they don't get it. Although, to be honest with you, I'm not sure I get it either."

"There's nothing to get. Draco and I just sort of developed a friendship. But that's it."

"How?"

Hermione sighed, "I'm not actually sure," she smiled, "he asked me for a favour and I asked him for one in return. We just kind of started talking. I mean, properly talking, instead of throwing insults at each other, and he's actually not that bad of a guy."

Ginny just stared at her sceptically.

"What? He is." Hermione defended herself.

"Ok, if you can overlook the six and a half years of prejudice, then so can I. Well," she paused, "at the very least I'll stop trying to slip Babbling Beverage's into his breakfast pumpkin juice."

They shared a grin, before her face became serious once more.

"I just don't get…" her eyes bore into Hermione's before she looked away.

"Don't get what?" Hermione tried to get Ginny to look at her again.

"It's nothing, it doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, or you wouldn't have said anything."

Ginny began softly, "well, I don't get why you seem to be able to laugh and joke with him, if what Colin said is true, but you don't seem to be able to even talk to me, Harry and Ron anymore. I know they hurt you when they followed you, but they only did it because they're worried about you," she ignored Hermione's small scoff at this, and carried on. "It's true. And it's not just them, everyone's worried. You barely sleep, you've lost so much weight because you barely eat, you hardly even talk anymore, you're always wandering off by yourself, and I actually overheard Madam Pince asking someone if you'd come back this year because she hasn't seen you in the library at all."

By the end of Ginny's talk, Hermione was just sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor through eyes that were tear-blurred once more.

"Ginny, I…can't…there's just been so much that's happened. If anyone knew…everyone would hate me."

She trailed off with a slight sob. Ginny couldn't bear seeing her like this, Hermione had always had a quiet confidence about her, not caring what other people thought and she was always so strong, but now here she was, sobbing on her bed, looking so frail that when Ginny slipped her arm around the brunette's shoulders and pulled her in for a hug, she felt sure that the older girl would break.

"No one would hate you Hermione, you can't have done anything that bad," Ginny had to fight her own tears at seeing her best friend in this state, "give people a chance, they might surprise you."

Hermione didn't say anything at this, and Ginny was content to hold her until her tears slowed, eventually giving way to small sniffs.

Hermione pulled away first. "Thank you," she managed hoarsely.

"You're welcome," Ginny replied with a faint smile, "do you feel up to coming down to the Great Hall for dinner or do you want me to bring something to you?"

For a second, Hermione mulled it over, but it didn't take her long to make a decision. "I'll come down. I've got a few things to straighten out, I _really_ don't want people thinking there's anything at all between me and Snape."

"What about you and Draco?" Ginny cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, that rumour is probably going to persist for a while, whether I like it or not, so I just have to find a way to definitively disprove it, or just live with it."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny and Hermione strode into the packed dining hall. Hermione had washed her face and cleaned herself up as much as possible, she was nervous enough about having to face everyone after her shouting match with the boys without having to worry about the fact that she looked like she'd been crying her eyes out. The swelling in her hand had subsided after she'd placed a bandage soaked in murtlap essence around it – she hadn't been able to find any alcohol. 

Every face in the room turned to stare and Hermione had to fight the urge to run away. She couldn't help the falter in her step though. Ginny, walking closely beside her, just grabbed her arm and kept her walking until they were sat at the table, as far away from the boys as possible.

Keeping her eyes lowered as she ate, Hermione could still feel peoples eyes burning into her back and, as the noise level gradually rose once more, she knew that the news of her fight with Ron and Harry and her newfound friendship with Draco had spread quickly until it had eclipsed even the gossip relating to the days pranks. Ron seemed to have regained his voice as she could hear him even from the other end of the table talking about what he was going to do when he got his hands on 'that slimy Slytherin git'.

How had everything changed so much in a matter of mere hours? That morning she had been so determined to have fun and be the way she used to be, but now it was like the weight was back on her. All this from a few rumours?

She lifted her eyes at Ginny's soft inhalation. Making their way towards them was Parvati and Lavender, each of whom were wearing smug expressions.

"Oh great," Hermione moaned.

"Hi," chirped Lavender, sliding into the seat beside Hermione, Parvati sitting across the table next to Ginny.

"Are you ok, Hermione?" Parvati asked, obviously trying to sound sympathetic, but merely sounding eager.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

"Are you sure? I mean, it can't be easy, having fallen out with your best friends over Malfoy." Lavender joined in the fishing for gossip, ignoring the dirty looks she and Parvati were receiving from both Ginny and Hermione.

"Lavender, like I told you before, there is nothing going on between me and Draco." Hermione dropped her fork to her plate and sighed heavily as she turned cold eyes to the girl beside her.

Lavender gave her a patronising smile, "I don't think anyone's going to believe you, after all, you just publicly declared that you chose him over Harry and Ron, that's not going to help your argument."

"Not that it's any of your business but I didn't choose him over Harry and Ron, I was angry at them and what better way to annoy them than by telling them I'm friends with their worst enemy?"

She smirked at the suddenly taken aback looks on the faces of both Lavender and Parvati.

"So, this whole thing was just a way to piss them off?" Parvati enquired incredulously.

Hermione gave her a small smile, "the guy has spent the last six years calling me a mudblood and just generally making my life miserable. Why on earth would we suddenly turn into best friends now?"

She shot a glance at Ginny, who inclined her head slightly and smiled in understanding.

"Look, me and Draco have to supervise a second year detention tomorrow, _that's_ why we were talking before."

"Why do you have to take a detention together?" enquired Lavender in confusion.

"We both have detentions to do so Dumbledore decided that this would be our way of serving them."

"This is the detention Snape gave you?" The eager look was back on her face, "because we thought you'd be doing it with him."

_Now_ they were getting to the point.

"You know, I've heard the rumour you've been spreading about me and Snape, and all I have to say on the matter is: what the hell is wrong with you two? That's disgusting!" She glared at her suddenly sheepish roommates.

"We didn't…Who…" Parvati stammered out.

Hermione stood up, ignoring the hush around her, "I'll see you later Ginny, I think I'm going to throw up."

She stalked out of the hall, feeling oddly satisfied with herself for putting Lavender and Parvati in their place.

A feeling that dissipated quickly when she reached the top of the stairs in the entrance hall and was faced with a beaten and bloody Draco Malfoy.

"What happened?" She gasped, reaching out to touch him. The black eye she'd given him seemed paltry when set alongside several cuts, trails of blood, and his stained, torn clothes.

"Some people don't take kindly to any sort of friendship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor." He hissed out between gritted teeth.

"Harry and Ron did this to you?" She couldn't believe this.

"I take offence at that, Granger, there's no way those two bumbling idiots would have the chance to beat me up like this. It was a group of Slytherins. Apparently your roommates have told everybody in the school that there's something going on between us."

"Oh, Draco, I'm sorry. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell them that I hate your guts, they just don't seem to believe me."

"Ever heard the phrase 'the lady doth protest too much'?"

"Of course I have," she replied indignantly, "what's your point?"

"My point is; if there was anything going on between us would you really go around telling people about it?" He didn't give her a chance to even open her mouth before answering for her, "no, you'd deny it. So the more you tell them we don't like each other, the more they're going to think you're lying. So we need to _show_ them we can't stand each other."

"What did you have in mind?" She asked, recognising a sly glint in his eyes.

"I've got a couple of ideas," he replied with a smirk, which looked out of place on his marred face, "how about tomorrows detention?"

He started walking, leading the way to the Room of Requirement, each of them lost in discussion about what they could do to prove that they loathed each other.

* * *

A/N2 – I'm currently working on chapter 21, but given that exams start in a week and chapter 21 has been in the making for almost a year now (yes, I'm a bad evil person with a _wicked_ case of writers block) I can't really promise anything. Just thought I'd let you know. And on that happy note, here comes the plea: please review!! 


	19. And The Language Obscene

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 19: And The Language Obscene**

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, cos I did that 3 hour Employment Law Exam this afternoon just for fun.

A/N – I know it's been a while, but I had awful sucky exams. On the plus side I've actually written chapter 21, so yay!

* * *

Hermione actually felt relieved when she entered the entrance hall the next evening. The day had been far from what anyone would describe as fun. The only person who would speak to her was Ginny, she'd received dirty looks from everybody she'd passed, and had heard more comments about her than she cared to think about.

She couldn't even talk to Draco. In fact he'd called her a mudblood at least twice that day. To which she'd retaliated by turning his skin blue and his hair a neon green.

When the four second years turned up she wasn't surprised to see that they were all Slytherins. The fact that it was already ten past seven and Draco hadn't turned up yet, also didn't surprise her.

The students they were supposed to be supervising were huddled together in one corner, muttering between themselves and occasionally shooting her glances. From the snide looks on their faces they were either gossiping about her or plotting ways to make this detention hell for both her and Draco.

Ten minutes later she was seriously considering ordering the students to stay where they were and going to find him herself when a loud shout cut across the hall.

"I'd forgotten you had detention Mudblood! This is going to be great, I get to order you around, just the way it should be"

She turned to the entrance of the dungeons where he stood, his hair back to its normal shining blonde, and his skin flawlessly pale as ever, apparently he'd taken care of his bruises and scrapes when he had sorted out his colouring.

She looked at the too-familiar smirk on his face for a few seconds before dignifying him with a response.

"Sorry, Malfoy, your sordid little fantasies are going to have to wait, we're _both _supervising this detention," she paused for a moment to take in his lightweight cloak, "and you're going to be freezing tonight."

She turned her attention to the students watching them and gestured for them to come towards her, "I'm glad to see that, unlike some, you're properly dressed for this detention." As they drew nearer, she withdrew several sheafs of parchment from beneath her thick cloak, "the detention will take place in the Forbidden Forest, I have…"

"Wait a minute, Granger!" Malfoy almost whined, striding across the hall towards where she was now accompanied by their charges, "we're not going into the forest, we're going down to the common room where these little brats will wait on me hand and foot all night."

"Merlin, could you be any more conceited?" She exclaimed, "no, don't answer that," she quickly added as he opened his mouth. "First of all, that is not a viable detention exercise, secondly, I doubt that Professor Dumbledore would ever agree to that, and thirdly, I was given a list of plants and herbs by Madam Pomfrey which she requires in order to make several medicines. I assured her that we would go into the forest tonight and find them."

"I am not going into that forest, Granger." Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest and just stood there staring at her with that effortless arrogance of his.

"Fine, you can explain to Professor Dumbledore that you were too scared to go into the forest when a group of second years didn't even bat an eyelid. Don't worry," she smiled conspiratorially at him, "I'm sure no one else would find out that the great Draco Malfoy is scared of a few trees."

"How dare you! I'm not scared, I'm just not going to take orders from a Gryffindor mudblood!"

"Ok then, go back to your common room. Just be careful around your drinks from now on, it's hard to tell when they've been spiked with veritaserum. It would be so embarrassing if everyone happened to find out the real reason you didn't want to go into the forest. And I'm sure there are a few other dirty little secrets you have that would be highly entertaining at dinnertime."

She raised an eyelid and fought the urge to laugh as she surveyed him. He'd argued long and hard last night against her using the reverse psychology tactic on him ("But there's no way I'd ever fall for that! Besides, just because it's not one of my favourite pastimes doesn't mean I'm scared of going into the forest, so I don't see why you have to announce that I am in front of some Slytherins who'll spread it around school.").

"Fine, I'll come into the forest. But this isn't over, mudblood, I'm going to think of something so bad to do to you that you'll be begging me to stop. And as for you lot," he whirled on the pupils who had been quietly sniggering, shocking them into silence, "say one word about this and you'll get first hand knowledge of why that third year boy cries and runs away every time I come into the common room. Understood?" He almost hissed at them.

They nodded in silence, looking taken aback.

"If you're finished threatening our pupils, can we go now? We're already nearly 45 minutes late starting, thanks to you." Hermione intervened calmly.

"Oh shut up," Draco snapped wittily, before storming past her through the huge doors and into the grounds of the school, lit with the last scarlet rays of the dying sunlight.

* * *

Five minutes later, the four detention students, Hermione and Draco were standing in a huddle on the outskirts of the forbidden forest, Draco taking care to stand as far away from Hermione as possible without going any deeper onto the trees.

"Now, I have a list for each of you," Hermione was saying, "but because we have no teacher and Hagrid couldn't lend me Fang as he's got tics the size of gerbils, we can't split up, so that is just for convenience."

She handed a piece of parchment to everyone but when she held one out to Draco he just sneered at it.

"I'm not doing any gardening, Granger, that's what house elves and mudbloods are for."

Hermione took a deep breath, as though trying to contain her anger.

"Fine then," she plastered a false smile onto her face and lowered the list she was holding, "I can't make you take it, but I'm definitely going to be informing Professor Dumbledore of this and suggesting that your next detention be something more suited to your heritage. Cleaning the toilets, perhaps?"

She left him stuttering and gasping at her impudence and turned to the second years.

"As I was saying, you will remain with Malfoy and myself, however there are still a couple of rules to take into account. First of all, do _not_ wander away. Trust me, I've been in this forest more times than I care to remember, and if you get past the huge murderous spiders, the young giant, the centaurs, the wild Ford Anglia and the giant three headed dog called Fluffy, there's still the small matter of finding your way out, which is no mean feat.

"Secondly, if anything should happen to either one of us," she threw a glare at Draco that clearly said that if anything _did_ happen to either of them, chances were very good that it would be Draco who ended up maimed or mutilated, "stay together, stay on the path, and send up red sparks. Ginny Weasley will be periodically checking so it won't be long before someone is alerted. That's it. Everyone light your wands, keep them pointed low to the ground, and if you see anything on your list alert the rest of us and we'll collect it. Any questions?"

The only girl in the group raised her hand, "yeah, um, why do we need to keep our wands pointed at the ground?"

Draco scoffed at her, "the stupid plants aren't likely to be floating at head height in front of you, are they?"

"Oh," the girl looked at her feet.

"Plus the fact that the light would probably attract the werewolves and the trolls, and they'd come right for you."

All of the students eyed the darkened forest warily.

"Stop scaring them Malfoy," Hermione said calmly.

"What? You're the one who was just reeling off all the dangerous creatures they could run into in here." He pouted at her like any child who had been told off for bullying.

"That's different. I was warning them so they could be on their guard, you just wanted to scare her."

She didn't give Draco time to think up a response, "can we go now?"

She ushered the four students onto the path and let them talk amongst themselves while she and Draco dropped a small way back, the theory being that they could keep a watch on the pupils, but it also allowed her and Draco to talk for the first time that day.

"Weaslette's checking up on us?" Draco asked quietly.

"Don't call her that. But yes, she is. I don't exactly love being in here either," she looked round at the ominous darkened trees and shuddered, "you never know what could happen. Especially considering the fact that I'm in here with 5 Slytherins," she smiled discreetly at him.

"Don't worry, if anything happens to you they'll be left with just me and I don't think that's a chance they're willing to take."

They walked on in comfortable silence, keeping an eye on the kids in front of them, who would stop every so often to examine some piece of foliage.

"So what did you actually get detention for?" Hermione enquired, she'd meant to ask him the previous night when they were plotting the events of the detention but somewhere between their discussion on insults and their debate over curses it had slipped her mind.

"I didn't do anything wrong, Sprout just doesn't have a sense of humour," Draco defended indignantly.

"What did you do?" Hermione shot him a mock reproachful look.

"Just a harmless little prank with some bubotuber pus and a sixth year Ravenclaw in one of the greenhouses."

"Harmless?" She couldn't believe he was grinning, "Draco, I've been covered in that stuff before and it hurts really bad!"

"Lighten up Granger, I modified it a bit, it didn't hurt her, it only dissolved the parts of her clothes that it touched," he snickered.

"You're horrible, did you know that?"

"Yes," he looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Hermione had just started to berate him over his arrogance when a fit of laughter erupted in front of them. Looking over at the all-too-happy detentioners she was surprised and slightly unnerved to see them all staring back at her and Draco.

"What?" Draco demanded, immediately putting a hand up to check his hair was still perfectly groomed, before widening his eyes and looking behind himself in case something was sneaking up on him.

"Nothing," replied one cocky boy, "we were just wondering if the lovers tiff was over yet?"

"Lovers tiff?" Hermione stared at him for a second, before turning to glare at Draco, "this is all your fault, you egotistical bastard."

"How the hell is this my fault Granger? Everyone in this school is bloody delusional and it's nothing to do with me!"

"Well where the hell did all those disgusting rumours about you and me come from?"

"I don't know Granger," he smirked at her, "are you sure you didn't spread them because you're intensely attracted to me?"

Hermione made gagging noises, "thanks Malfoy, now I'm going to have nightmares for weeks. I can honestly say that I would rather kiss a dementor than kiss you."

"I'm hurt, really I am," he replied, his voice flat and sarcastic, "but can you kindly inform those two airheads that you share a room with of that fact?"

"Don't blame them for this," Hermione shouted at him, even though she knew they were probably the instigators of everything, "all I did was talk to you civilly a couple of times because I had to and the next thing I know we're practically married? It's disgusting!"

"I know it is!" He yelled back at her, "Merlins sake, Granger, if I wanted to slum it I'd go shag a Hufflepuff, I would never go near a Gryffindor, especially not the mudblood know-it-all who's shagging the boy-who-won't-bloody-die!"

"Don't call me a mudblood you inbred bastard! And I am _not_ shagging Harry. If you don't tell everyone that I hate your guts and wouldn't go near you if you paid me then you'll be supervising the rest of this detention from the inside of a hamster ball."

"You tell them Granger, they don't seem to listen to me! Do you know the hassle I've been getting off my father for this? I'm so close to just letting him come down here and kill you."

"That's right Malfoy, go running to Daddy," Hermione mocked, "you're still the same pathetic little kid that can't do anything for himself. I don't know why people would think I even _liked_ you, let alone would date you. I like men, not spoiled little boys who has to get other people to do his dirty work."

"Well you're just a dirty blooded slut who has no life! That's the real reason you read all those books isn't it Granger? Because you know that the only reason Potter and Weasley will even talk to you is because you do all the boring research while they go do all the tough stuff. Deep down you know that they don't even like you, they're just using you, but you don't have anyone else!"

Even though she knew it was just part of the act, what Malfoy had said hit home and she immediately saw red. Raising her wand, which she'd been holding loosely by her side since they entered the forest, she didn't even give Draco a chance to react before pointing it at him and shouting out a blasting curse – taught to her during the summer by Harry.

Draco's eyes widened slightly as she opened her mouth before he was hit in the chest with the curse and sent flying backwards. He ended up on his back on the leafy ground, slightly stunned. It took him a few seconds to get his breath back and when he'd recovered enough to stand and appraise the smoking spot on his chest where the curse had smouldered his robes.

He looked up to see the four students staring open mouthed and wide eyed at him while Hermione was just striding away back down the path they'd just followed.

"Oy, mudblood! Get your arse back here so I can bloody curse you!"

Hermione whirled round and even Draco was taken aback at the look of fury on her face. In that moment even he wasn't sure whether or not she was still acting.

"Malfoy, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me a fucking mudblood?"

If it was possible for the detention students to look any more shocked, they did now. Hermione Granger, the good girl of the school was actually screaming and swearing at Malfoy.

"If you try to do anything to me I am seriously going to turn you back into a ferret and feed you to the hippogriffs." She paused and turned to their audience, "detention's over, go back to your common room." She started walking until a noise from behind her caused her to turn once more.

She was facing Malfoy just in time to see his lips form the entrail-expelling curse. In the midst of her rage and her disbelief that he would actually curse her back, Hermione's reactions were slower than usual. Barely had she raised her wand once more than the curse came for her.

Instinctively she flinched, knowing that there was no way she'd have a chance to get a shield charm up in time. The curse hit.

Surprisingly though, where it hit her, mid-abdomen, a shimmering red light exploded and the curse was sent harmlessly reeling into the trees.

After a shocked second, where the whole forest seemed to hold it's breath, Hermione ran her hands over her stomach, reverently examining the perfectly sealed flesh which should have been ripped open.

Her eyes were slightly panicked as they sought out Draco's and exclamations that never reached her mouth whirled within her mind.

_What's happened to me?_


	20. I Think I May Well Be

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 20: I Think I May Well Be**

DISCLAIMER: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

A/N – Ok, so I suck for not posting earlier, I'm sorry! Here's a peace offering:

* * *

Hermione kept her hands tightly over her abdomen as she stared into Draco's eyes.

She had enough reasoning left to be relieved that the second years had already departed, hastily and talking loudly about the events of their detention, when Draco finally spoke.

"Are you hurt?"

It took her three tries to get her voice to work, "no, it didn't even…touch me," she swallowed hard, lowering her eyes to look again at her hands clamped across her stomach, "it just bounced off."

"Good, that's good…" he seemed at a loss for words and if the situation had been any less petrifying Hermione probably would have laughed at the awkward look on his face, "er, I'm sorry, about, y'know, cursing you."

"Me too," she replied absently, even though the curses they had thrown at each other were so far down the list of things she was thinking about at that moment as to be almost non-existent.

Suddenly something inside her snapped and there was one thought left in her mind, overwhelming everything else. With no warning she ripped off her cloak and her robe, leaving her in just her school skirt and her crisp white shirt, already half open at the stomach so that she could examine herself.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked taking a few steps closer to her.

She barely registered his movement or his voice, all that mattered was seeing her skin.

It wasn't until she had removed her tie and started unbuttoning the rest of her shirt that Draco exclaimed, "hey," and moved towards her, grabbing her hands to stop them fumbling with the buttons.

"What are you doing?" He demanded again, ignoring the fact that she had kept her eyes on her hands and was now tugging at them, trying to free herself.

After several seconds, she stopped fighting and lifted tear blurred eyes to his face and forced herself to speak, even though she knew there was no way he would understand.

"Draco, let me go, please let me go," a sob escaped her lips, "I need to see what he did to me."

He stared at her as she resumed her pulling against him, getting more and more frantic, not seeming to be able to stop her words now that she had started.

"Please, I just have to see, I need to know…" The same words repeated over and over, until her strength seemed to fade and she collapsed against him, no words now, just choking sobs.

* * *

It took a while for Hermione to calm down enough to allow Draco – who had spent the time stroking her back tentatively and offering calming words with a slightly panicked look on his face – to escort her out of the forest.

They didn't speak a word to each other as they crossed the grounds towards the darkened castle, Hermione was shaking so hard she couldn't have spoken, even if she could think of anything to say, and Draco was concentrating on just keeping her upright and moving, with one arm around her waist and the other holding the cloak and robes he had retrieved from the forest floor.

Once they had reached the entrance hall Hermione seemed somewhat calmer, they were within the castle, nothing could happen to them there. He couldn't get her there.

The corridors were deserted, it being well past curfew for everyone. They made their way through the darkness without lighting their wands, more than six years of experience leading their feet towards their destination. Draco disentangled himself from Hermione and left her leaning against the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy as he opened the Room of Requirement for them.

The fire was raging and the sofa before it was a comforting deep red and gold. Draco scoffed slightly when he saw it, but Hermione sank gratefully into its softness, clutching a golden cushion to her body and wrapping her arms around it, curling her feet underneath her, her empty, bloodshot eyes fixed on the flames.

Draco sat on the other end of the sofa, careful not to touch her and distract her from the relative peacefulness she seemed to be experiencing after the hysterics of the forest. He, too, watched the fire in silence, waiting for Hermione to speak, glancing occasionally at the glimmering reflection of the embers in her cinnamon eyes.

"I'm sorry," Hermione murmured eventually, her hoarse voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Draco jumped at her words and turned towards her, a faint pink tinging his embarrassed cheeks, "you going to explain what that was about?" He asked, not unkindly.

"I can't explain it," she gave a bitter laugh, "how do you explain something you don't understand?"

"Ask Lockhart." Came the reply, coaxing a small giggle from her.

"It's just…" she drew in a shaky breath and tried to sort her turbulent thoughts into a coherent process, "I've been in a lot of fights, I can't remember how many times I've been hit with curses and hexes, I've even been petrified. I've broken bones, been in comas, had a million wounds. So why didn't that curse of yours do anything to me?"

"You're not happy about the fact that you're not writhing on the ground in agony trying to push your intestines back into your body?" Draco's lack of understanding was written all over his face.

"Well when you put it like that, no," Hermione glared at him, "but don't you understand that it means I'm different now. He did something to me, he changed me somehow," she paused and her next sentence was said in a voice so low, Draco had to lean closer to hear it.

"It means I'm like him."

"Hermione, you're nothing like him," Draco sounded slightly impatient now, "you're a Gryffindor, you have this thing about saving the world, you're infuriatingly nice, you're…"

Hermione didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence, standing abruptly and moving to stand in front of the fire, facing him.

"Draco, he's my _father_. Ok? He's my dad, you can't tell me that that has no bearing on who I am? I've got the same DNA as him, I've got the same blood. Hell, through him I'm descended from Salazar Slytherin. This stupid ring is right, _darkness flows through blood_, no matter what I do, it doesn't matter if I like it or not, he's part of me, somewhere inside me is his evil."

"Stop being so melodramatic Granger," Draco almost sneered as she paused to take a breath, "think about it, he can't have had that much of an effect on you because for 17 years you were the know-it-all, prissy, 'rules are the most important thing in the world' mudblood. That doesn't just change because one day you found out your father wasn't who you thought he was."

"Then how do you explain all this crap?" She threw up her arms in despair, "the wicked little urges, all the accidents, the snake, the muggle studies teacher, Tonks' dark detector, and the curse tonight. None of this stuff happened before."

"So why does it have to be the fact that you just found out he's your dad?" Draco sat up straighter and focused on her."

"What do you mean?"

"That 'stupid ring'. Didn't you think that this whole thing might not be your blood but it might be the Ring of Darkness?"

She thought for a second, "it can't be. When the ring is doing something I can feel it, it gets warm or I get tingles in my fingers or something. Nothing happens to it when all this other stuff happens, I would know."

"But you don't know anything about this ring. Voldemort wanted me to turn you evil, don't forget that I was told that the process has already been started. I just kind of figured that he thought once you'd found out that he was your father and about your extra power you would join him…"

Hermione interrupted him, "so he did do something to me," she murmured softly, dropping back onto the sofa, "I can't get the ring off Draco, I tried so hard when he first put it on my finger but then I just gave up and forgot about it."

She turned wide eyes to him that were so haunted even the Slytherin ice prince couldn't meet hem and not feel her pain. "I've had this…thing on me for weeks, infecting me, corrupting me, and I've just…not noticed. After a while it just felt so normal that I forgot about it. Unless I concentrated and actually used it, I ignored the fact that I was wearing it.

"And I used it for such stupid things. This is a relic of Slytherin's, filled with his power, his evil, and I've been using it to play pranks in class."

"You saved Potter's life too," Draco put in, in a vain attempt to make her feel even the slightest bit better.

"And look how well that turned out," she scoffed, "he got eaten, I got blackmailed and Dumbledore got paranoid."

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, "maybe I should just give up, go to Dumbledore and tell him that I'm Voldemort's child."

"You can't do that!" Draco actually sounded shocked, "I don't know what all the fuss is about with Dumbledore wanting to know who Voldemort's kid is, I don't even know how he knew the Voldemort had a kid if you didn't tell him, but I do know that if you go to him and confess everything, there is no way they're just going to let you walk around the school, going to classes like normal. They'll take you away and lock you up somewhere, or worse, they'll use you, try to make you spy on him or something, use the ring for what they want you to do."

Hermione stared at him, "you really don't know that it's not always like that, do you? Just because that's all you've ever known doesn't mean that everyone is only out for what they can get from others. Dumbledore isn't like that, it wouldn't be like that. And even if it was, isn't that better than the alternative? What Voldemort wants me to do? He wants me to spy on Harry, figure out his weaknesses, make him easier to kill. He wants me to turn against people I've known, people I've cared about for years. So forgive me Draco if I don't really want to help some megalomaniac murder my best friend."

She stood, her mind made up, resolve set, "I'm going to tell Dumbledore, I can't deal with this anymore, I don't know what to do. He's infecting me and I don't know how to stop it."

Her hand was actually on the doorknob before Draco's words stopped her "they would never talk to you again."

And just like that, her careful resolve disintegrated. In a movement oddly reminiscent of the last heart to heart they had in this room, Hermione rested her throbbing head on the cool wooden door and didn't need to ask him who he meant.

She knew what their reactions would be. Half a dozen years of friendship had taught her that much, Harry would stare at her in shock, his mind immediately going over all of his memories of her, picking out random bits and pieces, moments that with hindsight would leave him wondering, should I have noticed, could I have seen it in her? And Ron, always so quick to temper, he would go so pale, until his freckles stood out in sharp contrast, his eyes wide as he stepped away from her and looked to Harry for guidance on what to do, unable to talk to her.

And even if there was any slight chance that they could forgive her for the sins of her father, she'd lied to them about it. She'd pretended to help, pretended to care, and all the time she knew what they didn't and she had kept it from them.

Fighting against what her body wanted to do, she turned to face the sofa on which Draco was still settled, expecting to see that self satisfied smirk she was so used to seeing, instead he wore an expression of grim resignation with the slightest hint of pity for her, something she'd thought never to see on his face.

"They might understand," she protested weakly.

"Hermione, Voldemort killed Harry's parents and has tried to kill him several times. Even if he did let you try to explain, he would never be able to look at you without seeing Voldemort and there would always be that little voice nagging in the back of his mind, asking if you somehow betrayed him then and if you were going to betray him in the future."

She allowed her legs to fold, sliding her to the floor as her mind flashed back to the look in Harry's eyes when she accused him of killing Sirius, and she couldn't bear the thought that he would look at her like that again, only it would be a thousand times worse.

"I know how important your friends are to you, can you really hurt them that badly? They don't need to know, no one needs to know, you have the ring, you have these powers that just keep growing. You're safe at Hogwarts, whether Dumbledore knows about your secret or not, telling them won't achieve anything, other than making you even more miserable and lonely than you are right now."

"They could understand. Dumbledore would, Harry and Ron don't even need to find out." She knew her arguments were weak and that she didn't have a hope in hell of convincing Draco of something that she didn't even believe, but still she tried.

"If you really believe that, you would have told everyone the truth a while ago."

"Is this part of the corrupting me thing, not letting me tell anyone else?" Hermione asked, half joking after several long minutes of silence.

"No, this is part of the how are you going to help me with my problems if everyone knows about yours thing?" Was the slightly mocking reply.

"And here I thought you actually cared about my feelings," Hermione stood and made her way back to the couch.

"Why would I want to do that? I'm an evil Slytherin bastard, remember?"


	21. Get Back, Back, Back To You

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 21: Get Back, Back, Back To You**

DISCLAIMER: Much as I would love the critical acclaim, billions of fans, incredibly huge bank balance and world travelling that goes along with the ownership and founding of the Harry Potter empire, it's not mine. Sucks.

* * *

Hermione stumbled back into the Gryffindor common room almost an hour later, her clothes neatly in place and her expression calm. After all the practice she'd had at schooling her features for the last few months, there was barely any chance of even her best – _ex_-best, she reminded herself – friends noticing that anything untoward had occurred during the course of the detention.

Carefully, she avoided the accusing eyes of the few sixth and seventh years still up at the late hour and quietly made her way towards the tip of red hair showing over the top of a comfy armchair stationed by the window.

She rounded the chair to see Ginny burrowed into the cushions, legs under her body, arms wrapped round herself, snoring so gently it just sounded like steady breathing. Hermione debated whether or not to wake her up but knew that if she didn't, Ginny would be mad at her for not telling her how the 'argument' with Draco went.

If there was anything Hermione did not need, it was yet another person angry with her. Besides, doing it now, with the four or five others in the common room would help speed up the rumours of the major argument between herself and Draco.

"Gin," she gently reached out her hand and shook the girl's shoulder.

"Hey," she blinked up slowly, "the detention over?" At Hermione's nod she sat up and glanced around the room, "How'd it go?" she enquired softly.

"Well, Malfoy and I had a screaming slagging match and then he hexed me," she could almost hear the collective intake of breath from the others in the room, her voice purposefully raised just enough so they could hear her clearly, "the bastard."

"Are you okay?" Ginny sat up straighter and looked more alert, her eyes scanning Hermione, trying to distinguish any injuries.

"Yeah, I'm fine, he won't do it again. Although I think the students we were supervising were traumatised. And I bet it's gonna be all over school tomorrow too. More gossip, that's just what I need."

She shot a withering glance at the open-mouthed students who flushed at being caught openly eavesdropping.

"Anyway, it's been a long night so I'm gonna go to bed, thanks for watching out for us," on impulse she bent and hugged the younger girl.

"No problem," Ginny hugged her back, looking surprised at the sudden display of affection.

Hermione quite possibly felt more emotionally exhausted than she had since the whole thing began. Throughout it all, everything that had happened, both _to_ her and _around_ her, she'd been able to retain some semblance of self – she knew who she was.

She didn't know whether she was evil or good, still didn't know whether that was predetermined, but she'd known she was Hermione Granger. A 17 year old girl with a messed up life and a screwed up family.

Now she had no idea whether she was even human anymore.

Seconds away from the door to her room, Hermione stopped. Something was wrong. She barely had a chance to realise that this wasn't the first time she'd felt this way before something ripped at her chest, the world shimmering around her as she watched her body fall to the ground.

A blink. That's all the time it took for the warm comforting Gryffindor tower to evaporate around her and be replaced with the same dark, threadbare room she'd come to despise.

"Good evening, Hermione."

She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her at hearing his voice yet again. Knowing that anything she said would probably be used as an excuse to cause her pain, she kept her mouth shut and her eyes down.

A low chuckle intruded, closer than the voice had been and Hermione shivered as he spoke again.

"At least you've learned respect for your elders. That's something. But your re-education is not going as quickly as I anticipated Hermione, and I'm very disappointed in you."

Hermione looked up at those red eyes that haunted her, "I'm not going to do what you want," she had no idea where the strength behind her words was coming from. Maybe it was because she was so tired of all the lies and all the horror that seemed to have become her life now.

"So you might as well just kill me or let me go."

"Like it or not, you're my daughter. I'm not going to leave you alone Hermione. And though I will kill you if I have to, I have plans for you that I would like fulfilled. So when I return you to your body, you will leave the castle grounds and you will be brought to me."

"I'm not going to do that," Hermione was slightly incredulous, there was no way she would leave the relative safety of the castle. True, he could get to her, but there was nothing he could do to hurt her while she was in the incorporeal status that came with being summoned by him.

"If you want to see your mother again, you will do exactly as I tell you."

"You're bluffing."

His white face looked more horrific than ever, red eyes glowing with maniacal fervour as he split thin lips into a cruel twisted smile.

"I don't bluff."

Cruel laughter rang in her ears as she felt the now-familiar dizziness pulling at her.

"Hermione!"

There was a hand shaking at her shoulder and a warm voice calling her name. Blinking dry eyes, Hermione gazed up at the worried face of Ginny Weasley.

"Are you ok? What happened?"

Though Ginny was asking concerned questions, all Hermione could hear was that laughter, mocking, merciless, evil.

"Ginny, I have to go."

"What?" She pulled back as Hermione scrambled up from the hard floor.

"I've got to go. You need to give Draco a message from me. Tell him I went to see my father, and I don't know when I'll be back, my mum's ill."

Ginny followed Hermione as the panicked girl ran back down the stairs and through the common room.

"Tell _Draco_? What about Harry and Ron?"

"Tell them whatever you like, just please give Draco that message.

"You can't leave! What just happened? Hermione!"

Hermione left her concerned friend in her wake as she sprinted out of the common room and through the deserted corridors of the castle.

If there was any chance at all that he would go through with his threat, Hermione would never be able to live with herself.

* * *

Pain.

Her whole body ached, every muscle on fire at the slightest twitch.

Hermione crawled out of the soothing nothingness of unconsciousness and opened her eyes to harsh, watery sunshine.

The walls of Hogwarts loomed above her. She lay in a crumpled heap on the wrong side of the grounds.

Questions jostled for attention within her mind as she held onto the walls and pulled herself to a standing position.

What was she doing here? Racking her memories, she couldn't remember anything after the discussion she'd had in the Room of Requirement with Draco after the detention. But that had been at night, it was clearly just past dawn, why was she outside the castle?

Why was she in so much pain? And why were her clothes torn? Wearily, Hermione dragged herself along the walls, the need to get into the castle grounds an almost tangible weight, taking in her ripped clothing and scratched, bruised, dirty skin in an almost detached manner.

Staggering through the gates and up towards the huge wooden doorway into the castle, Hermione went over the previous nights events in her mind. Had Draco's curse finally caught up with her and affected her in a strange way?

From the sounds in the great hall just off the entrance hall, she figured most of the castle was at breakfast. Breakfast sounded good, she hadn't realised before how hungry she was.

Her brain was fuzzy, she couldn't focus for too long on one thing. Maybe she needed to rest. First, though, she would need to do something about the pain. Deciding to clean herself up and find Draco to perform a couple of healing spells on her, she made her way towards the stairs.

Oblivious to the stares of the few nameless students she passed on her way, Hermione coaxed and goaded her stiff limbs into climbing the stairs and making the seemingly endless walk towards the Gryffindor common room.

"Hermione?" She'd reached the top of the staircase when someone behind called her name.

Surprise and shock marred Ginny's face when Hermione turned to see who had called her.

"Hi Ginny," she managed, "I'm just going to clean up before I get breakfast." Every word was painful as it was pulled from a throat so raw she felt she'd been swallowing razor blades.

"Where have you been?" Ginny's worry was evident as she ascended the staircase.

"Outside. I think something Draco did to me in last nights detention had a delayed reaction."

If it was possible, Ginny's eyes filled with even more concern, "Last night? Hermione you've been missing for over a week."

"What?"

"You ran out of the castle 10 days ago, remember? You said something about your father and left. We've been looking for you ever since."

"No. The detention was last night." Hermione was confused, the pain she was feeling, coupled with hunger and a bone numbing weariness was making it difficult for Ginny's words to penetrate her befuddled brain.

"Hermione, please stay here, ok? I'm going to get some help."

"I'll be alright after a little bit of rest," she insisted weakly, "I need to find Draco, he's good at healing charms."

"Right, you stay here and I'll go get Draco. He can help me get you back to your room, ok? You need to stay right here though."

"Ok," Hermione let her body slip to the floor, leaning carefully against the wall.

Everything was fuzzy after that. Voices and faces swam above her, sentences reduced to random snippets as she felt hands under her body moving her gently.

"…malnourished…terrible abuse…get her to the hospital wing…questions…"

The words dipped in and out, too far away to make any sense of. She did know that they weren't spoken by Draco but by a kindly female voice which conjured up blurred images of stark white aprons and rows of beds.

Her body was placed carefully onto a soft surface and the voices drifted further away leaving Hermione in darkness and peace.

Until the screaming started.

The flickering candlelight threw distorted shadows onto the bare stone walls, freezing air shivering across her sweat soaked skin as her body burned.

Blood red eyes stared at her through the darkness, laughter mocked her, and through it all there was the pain.

The cold chains around her wrists and ankles prevented her from huddling into a ball on the unforgiving floor as images seared their way behind her eyes.

Bodies littering a grassy field. Flames licking up the side of a castle. Flashing spells impacting screaming people. Death. Destruction. Fear. Pain. Horror.

And Hermione stood in the centre of the carnage. A cold smirk on her lips, her wand raised, eyes burning red and soulless, taking in the power that flooded through the battlefield. The power of those who died, pouring into her, making her stronger with every life that slipped away.

The images ceased as abruptly as they had started, and she was left in the stone room, surrounded by hooded figures. They chanted as the red-eyed creature who called her daughter approached, wand held high, triumph in his distorted face.

He disappeared behind her and her matted hair was roughly yanked out and up, away from her neck. A searing pain shot through the back of her neck, continuing down below the surface of her skin, infecting her.

Hermione's eyes opened abruptly, breathing heavy and laboured as she blinked into the brightness of the hospital wing. The back of her neck stung, and for a second she had the panicked notion that she knew why.

Vaulting out of the crisp bed she'd been laid on, she scrambled across the room, muscles weak and sore, towards the mirror hanging over the small washbasin in one corner of the room.

Pulling her hair back, she looked at her bruised face and her deep brown eyes for a second before turning her back to the mirror and craning her face round to see the back of her neck.

There it was. He'd marked her, tainted her even further than she already had been. There was no denying it, she thought as she stared at the dark mark branded just below the hairline. He was never going to let her go.

"Hermione!"

A/N – I'm in the middle of the next chapter. Reviews feed the muse…


	22. The Voices Just Can't Worm Through

**ANGEL OF A DEVIL**

**Chapter 22: The Voices Just Can't Worm Through**

DISCLAIMER: The extreme suckage that is my life kinda indicates the lack of ownership of anything so great and valuable as the Harry Potter universe.

A/N – Since posting chap. 21, it has seriously amazed me how many people are still seeming to find this story, and adding it to favourites/reviewing. Basically, you are all amazing and I'm an evil sucky author who hasn't rewarded you with an update in far too long. So here you are.

* * *

Dropping her hair abruptly, Hermione twisted to face the open doorway, her hopes that Ginny hadn't seen anything dying at the shock on her friends face. 

"Ginny," she breathed taking a step forward, her heart shattering as Ginny took a step back, "please, I can explain."

"It's you?" Ginny's eyes were wide with betrayal and fear, "you're his _heir_?"

"It's not like that, I swear it's not!" Hermione wanted to step forward, to force Ginny to look into her eyes and realise that she was still the same girl who fought alongside Ron and Harry.

"I defended you. When everyone else said you'd changed, when _Harry_ said there was something wrong with you, _I_ defended you. And all this time, you're the one we're all looking for. You're the dangerous one." Ginny's words were bitter and harsh and she didn't give Hermione a chance to protest before she turned, hair flying behind her as she ran from the hospital wing, heedless of Hermione's streaming tears.

Hermione ignored Madam Pomfrey's shouts of how she needed to be thoroughly examined before she could leave as she raced past the maternal nurse who'd come to investigate the source of all the noise. All she could think about was getting to Ginny, trying to get her to listen to her before she told someone, _anyone_, what she'd learnt.

By the time she'd caught up with her, Ginny was stood outside the Gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office, pleading with it to let her in without the password.

"Please, it's an emergency," the gargoyle just ignored her, as still as the innocuous statue it pretended to be.

Hermione's approaching footsteps caused Ginny to look up and see her sprinting down the corridor towards her. With a startled squeak, the redhead spun on her heel and ran once more, away from her former best friend.

"Please, just listen to me, Ginny!"

For a second, she thought she'd done something to her, as Ginny stopped abruptly at the end of the corridor, just before turning a corner. Thought she'd made her stop, the way she'd made Draco stop before.

Until Ginny started struggling against the arms that Hermione could now see snaked around her waist.

"What's going on?" Draco's voice was confused as he looked between the girl in his arms and Hermione.

"Let go of me!" Ginny cried as Hermione made her way closer to them.

"She knows." Ginny stopped wriggling as Hermione's voice sounded from right behind her, knowing that she was caught for good now.

"You finally told them? What happened to all your 'they'll never understand, they'll hate me and it's not my fault,' crap?" Draco released Ginny, but she didn't move, save to turn wide eyes to train on Hermione's face.

"Why do you think she was running?" Hermione snapped at him before addressing Ginny, "I didn't ask for this, I should have told you, but I didn't want you to look at me like you just did. I swear to you that I haven't changed, I would never turn on you or Harry. I'll understand if you never talk to me again, but please don't tell anyone."

She waited while Ginny's suspicious gaze raked over her, unsure whether there was anything she could do to make her believe what she was saying.

"What about the mark?" Her first words weren't exactly comforting, but at least she hadn't started running again.

"What mark?" It was Draco's turn to look alarmed now.

"He put the Dark Mark on me," Hermione sighed, not really understanding Draco's reaction.

He grabbed her left arm and pushed the sleeve up, his fingers tightening painfully on her wrist, "where?"

The bark in his voice made Hermione pull back, "my neck, the back of my neck." He didn't give her a chance to say anything more before he whirled her round and, pushing her head down, lifted her dirty hair out of the way.

"What?" She asked, slightly panicked by Draco's sharp hiss and the way he dropped her hair, stepping back like he'd been burnt.

"I never thought I'd say this, Granger, but we need Dumbledore _now_."

"You want me to tell him?" She whirled back to face him, almost forgetting about Ginny who stood open mouthed watching the exchange between them.

"Don't you know _anything_ Granger?" She would have been annoyed at the insult if his eyes hadn't been too wide and his breathing too shallow, "he can get to you now. Not like the dreams, or the summonings, he can get into your head through that mark. If he wanted to, he could see through your eyes. He's pretty much got a direct link to your mind. We need to tell the headmaster _now_, because there's a reason why he's put the mark on you."

"I wouldn't do what he wanted." Hermione's voice was soft and filled with the horror she pulled from the succession of memories that ran through her mind. "There's something about me, because I'm his daughter, there's something different in me."

Her eyes were open but she couldn't see the corridor, or her two friends, she was stood in the dank room of her nightmare watching as her father and Lucius Malfoy studied a scroll and talked between themselves of stealing power and corrupting good.

"He wants me to join him, wants me to use my power to help him kill Harry and take over the wizarding world for good.

"That was the whole point of taking me," she focused suddenly on her rapt audience, "he was trying to … I don't know, _brainwash_ me or something, except I wouldn't let him. So he put the Dark Mark on me."

"Yeah, but he could have done that ages ago, why now?" Ginny seemed breathless, the amount of information she was being hit with in such a short space of time overwhelming her.

"Because Dumbledore's getting close," Draco cut in before Hermione could respond, "the Dark Lord and my father are getting worried, I was on my way to the hospital wing to show you this, Granger."

He fumbled in his pockets for a second before pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment and handing it to Hermione, who read it aloud in a fearful tone.

_Draco _

_We don't have as much time as we anticipated. Our plans are being accelerated, we are going to strike soon. The Dark Lord still anticipates her allegiance, however Granger is proving stubbornly resistant to most forms of persuasion and is able to throw off mind control too quickly for it to be of much use. Should she fail to join with us willingly, there are other means to harness her power. Be warned, and stay alert, we will need your help to bring her to us once we make our move._

_Father_

"I got it this morning. I don't know what's going to happen or when, but with the mark on you, linking you to the Dark Lord, I don't think you're going to like those 'other means.'"

"So what can we do?" As had happened so often lately, Hermione was out of ideas.

"Find the headmaster and hope like hell that he can help."

* * *

It wasn't long before the trio discovered that the headmaster was away on business for the Order, and wasn't expected back before the feast. 

Somehow, with everything else that had been going on, Hermione had failed to realise that it was Halloween, a holiday celebrated with a flourish at the school.

Ginny, though still rather suspicious of both Hermione and Draco nonetheless stuck by them the rest of the day as they attempted to theorise what Voldemort could have planned for Hermione, and how much of the past few months to actually tell Dumbledore once he returned to the castle.

As the day progressed, Hermione became increasingly on edge. She couldn't help the bad feelings in the pit of her stomach, and it didn't help that she kept imagining that she could hear faint whispering in the back of her mind, too low to make out words or even tones, just there, humming away. Once or twice she even fancied that she could feel a delicate prod at the edges of her psyche, more a subtle brush against her thoughts than anything.

Praying that it was just her imagination overreacting to the information Draco had imparted about the mark on her neck, she concentrated instead on her discussions with the other two, deciding not to burden them with what would surely be nothing.

By the time the feast started, Hermione was having trouble sitting still. Draco had parted with them to sit alone at the end of the long Slytherin table, in a half-hearted attempt to keep up the charade they had tried to establish at the detention so long ago.

The magnificent decorations went unnoticed by Hermione, as did the gossiping students staring at her, it was no secret that Hermione had been missing for over a week, so her return was subject to some speculation, as well as the fact that she'd been spotted several times that day in the company of Draco and Ginny, setting light to several new rumours.

Hermione could barely eat, and the bites she did take were bland and tasteless. Her movements were twitchy and her thoughts jerky. Dumbledore wasn't back yet, though she could see most of the other teachers at the head table, several of whom seemed to be discussing her almost as much as the students were.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ginny hissed concernedly for the hundredth time, not appeased by the 99 previous muttered "nothing's".

This time, however, the answer was different. "I don't know."

"Do you need to go back to the hospital wing?"

Hermione missed the question, distracted by the whispering in her mind, now unmistakeably there, a presence she couldn't deny, though she still couldn't determine the words.

"Something's going to happen, Ginny. Soon."

She was sure she'd had more to say but movement at the teacher's table caught her eye. Snape winced in pain and grabbed at his left forearm.

A fraction of a second later Hermione couldn't help the scream that escaped her as a burning agony seared through the back of her neck, the activation of the mark almost as painful as its application.

The burning continued, its torment blocking out everything around her. Everything but the whispering in her mind which suddenly became a crystal clear hiss.

_It is time._


End file.
